


cigarettes and jellybeans《香烟和果冻糖》

by SummerZephyr



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, DJ Wang Yibo, M/M, Reconciliation, Translator Xiao Zhan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerZephyr/pseuds/SummerZephyr
Summary: You’re my cigarette – harmful and addictiveI’m your jellybean – unpleasant, but yet I still like itThey met in university. Four years later, they met again.A story of love, of mistakes made, of mistakes fixed.- Translated from Mandarin -
Relationships: Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan | Sean
Comments: 57
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【战山为王】Cigarettes and Jellybeans 香烟和果冻糖](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23667241) by [Issesilia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issesilia/pseuds/Issesilia). 



> Hi! This is a translation of the original【战山为王】Cigarettes and Jellybeans 香烟和果冻糖 by Issesilia. If you like this, please go over to her fic to give her some love! :) 
> 
> Please let me know if I've missed out any tags!

It’s already 1am.

The apartment is quiet, there are no lights on. The only source of illumination comes from the harsh glow of a computer screen, a bright, unforgiving glare on Xiao Zhan’s face.

Tomorrow, he will be in Hangzhou. As the interpreter for this business meeting, he has an important role. Staying up late to prepare for it is a must. He only just received the meeting details this afternoon.

A last glance at his notes, before he turns off the computer. He removes his glasses, stays in the chair until his eyes get used to the darkness. He packs his luggage, washes up for the night. Brushes his teeth. Before he goes to bed, he turns on one of the living room lights, because the person who’s scared of the dark still hasn’t come home.

Xiao Zhan is woken up by the loud bang of a door.

When Wang Yibo isn’t around, he leaves his door open, so the unmuted, thunderous echo that reverberated through his room was intense, pounding through his temples. Xiao Zhan leans over, fumbling for his phone. 06:05. Great, guess there’s no need for the alarm.

He sees the mass on the sofa the moment he walks out of his room. A jacket, flattened beneath the body. A bag, squashed underneath the legs. A mess of blue hair, buried in a pile of cushions.

He sighs. “Did you get drunk again?” he murmurs, moving towards the person.

It is a bit of a redundant question. The person smells of the acrid tang of alcohol, perfume and cigarette smoke. A potent combination, spreading through the room.

Despite the apparent lack of energy in the figure on the sofa, the voice that issues from him is as curt as usual. “Shut up. You’re too noisy.”

Xiao Zhan keeps his mouth shut. He get doesn’t angry. Retrieving a blanket from his bedroom, he gently lays it over him.

Because he doesn’t want to disturb Wang Yibo, Xiao Zhan didn’t eat breakfast at home. He changes quietly, gives the apartment a quick tidying up, grabs his luggage and prepares to leave.

Standing at the doorway, he hesitates, then turns around to speak. “Wang Yibo, I’m going to Hangzhou today for work, I’ll be back in three days. I made some food last night, it’s in the fridge. Take care of yourself, stop buying so much takeaway. Call me if there’s anything.”

As he expected, the person in the living room gives no indication of having heard him at all. Xiao Zhan gives a bitter smile, shutting the door behind him.

It’s the same door that slammed earlier, but now it moves almost without sound. Despite that, once the door shut, the person on the sofa opens his eyes.

Wang Yibo wasn’t asleep. He’d spent the whole night working, but he isn’t so exhausted as to fall asleep immediately. It seems like his body is used to the odd hours.

That person is leaving for work again. He’ll be alone at home for three days, but… whether he’s around or not, there’s no difference. He lives the life of a night owl, whereas the person works a very regimental nine to five, with the occasional overtime work every now and then. They’ve been living together for the past six months, but as for actually spending time together… Wang Yibo can probably count that on his fingers.

He had already been working at the nightclub, half a year ago. The illusive midnight DJ. It started when he was in the final year of university – a part time thing, a common occurrence among the students of the faculty of music. Tutoring a student here, teaching a class there. The nightclub gig that Wang Yibo landed was decent – not mainstream, for sure – but it was decent, so he saw no issues with making it his full-time job after he graduated. The boss likes him, the place was legitimate, and the pay was good. Combined with the occasional side gig, Wang Yibo was living a rather good life.

But then Xiao Zhan reappeared, destroyed his peaceful routine. This “old friend”, whom he hasn’t seen in over three years, returned to his life half a year ago. It was a though a rock, a giant one, had been thrown into the calm lake of his life, ripples of water swirling from the epicenter. No, not just ripples. Rough waves. A whirlpool.

First came that shocking confession. Then came the sex. And then, coincidence of all coincidences, his ex (girlfriend, at that time) witnessed it, and he ended up kicked him out of their shared flat, his belongings thrown into the street.

Originally, he’d decided to live in the club. But Xiao Zhan, who knew where he worked and who made it a point to visit his workplace every couple of days, found out of this turn of events easily enough. So he’d resentfully accepted Xiao Zhan’s proposal – move in with him, rent-free, meals included. Wang Yibo would’ve agreed based on those two points alone. But as for the other reason… it didn’t escape his notice, but he chose to ignore it. It doesn’t matter if it upsets both of them. He has a desperate need for retaliation towards Xiao Zhan, and since Xiao Zhan’s willingly come back to suffer the punishment, Wang Yibo will ensure that he gets it.

They first met four years ago, when he was eighteen. His sweetest memory. He’d passed the Entrance Exams, entered the university of his dreams, and on the very first day of school, met Xiao Zhan, his form teacher.

The form teachers for the undergraduate classes are basically just postgraduate students. Having accepted the university’s paltry few hundred dollars (less of a wage and more of a courtesy sum, really), they perform the necessary cheap labour – inspect the dorms, supervise the morning exercises, organize class meetings. Despite the unglamorous work, competition is fierce, and all the form teachers are exceptional students, the cream of the crop.

Xiao Zhan was six years older than him, in the second year of his postgrad in English at the School of Foreign Languages. Perhaps it’s a trick of God, perhaps… Wang Yibo could never understand why such an illustrious student of English would become the form teacher for a class of piano students at the School of Music.

The question about Wang Yibo’s sexual orientation first raised its quizzical head when he was in High School. He knows that he didn’t like girls (at least, not _that_ type of like), but he’s not very sure about boys. But the moment he met Xiao Zhan, he knew. He liked this person, and this person was a boy.

It had been a lovely afternoon, bright and sunny, the residual warmth of summer was still present in the air. Thanks to the electric fan, the classroom wasn’t stuffy, and the air was filled with the buzz of the fauna outside and the students within. Wang Yibo was next to the window, sitting beside his new friend, a fellow boy from his dormitory. From his angle, he had a clear view of the corridor outside.

A white short-sleeved shirt, paired with a set of long black pants, made the person appear tall and slim. A slender, metallic pair of glasses, resting on the bridge of his nose, gave the warm, delicate face a scholarly air.

He had watched Xiao Zhan enter the classroom without blinking.

“Hello everyone, I’m your form teacher…”

His introduction was simple. Then he gave a school introduction, explained the school rules, discipline standards, military training procedures.

His pronunciation was clear, his voice as warm as the face that spoke it. There was a constant hint of a smile on that face, which made the people around him feel warm. Comfortable.

“Yibo. Hey, Yibo…”

Yibo finally realized his dorm mate was talking to him.

“Our form teacher just said that we’ll have to choose a class monitor. But it’s our first day, we’re all strangers, how are we supposed to do that?”

A sudden spike of interest. “Easy. Just choose me.”

This dorm mate is a person that warmed up easily. He found Yibo’s words very funny, so he turned around to spread it to the rest of the boys in the class.

“Hey, hey, we’ll choose Yibo for class monitor later, okay? I’ll help everyone keep an eye on him, and next time I’ll cover for you guys. Not bad, eh?”

There weren’t a lot of boys in the class, and they couldn’t be bothered to compete with him. Nice of them, Yibo thought.

As one of the nominees, he had to stand up and give a short speech to get votes. Rules, as they say. Given his height and his not-bad-looking visage, it wasn’t long before the girls in the class started talking about him.

Yibo got his wish. Xiao Zhan set up a class WeChat group, then afterwards, added Yibo’s WeChat to his own. They even traded phone numbers.

“I’ll be having lessons at the English department most of the time, contact me if there’s anything. If there’re any announcements from the school, I’ll send it in the group chat. Help me take of the class, okay?”

After the short class meeting, Xiao Zhan had asked him alone to stay back, had said this to him.

Their lives were linked, from that day onwards. Like two pieces of thread, each of a different colour, they wrapped around one another, intertwined, entangled… even knotted, at some point. Impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Inseparable.

If, four years ago, he didn’t have that impulse to vie for class monitor… would everything afterwards still have happened…? Perhaps he wouldn’t be looking like this today. Perhaps he would have followed the path, become a proper piano teacher. Perhaps.

“There are no ifs in life...” Wang Yibo murmurs into the mirror. He’d pulled himself up from the sofa, washed his face. “This will have to do.”

His phone, lying abandoned in the corner of the sofa, rings. Gritting his teeth, he answers it. The call is from the person who had just left.

“What?”

“Eat some breakfast before you sleep,” the voice says. “It’s not good for the stomach to be empty for too long. I went to the supermarket yesterday, there’s bread and milk at home, please eat some. I’ve reached the high speed rail station…”

Wang Yibo has no intention of hearing the whole thing. He hangs up.

Their relationship in the past half a year can be described as... abnormal. Technically, they live together in this apartment, but Xiao Zhan is mainly the one taking care of the apartment, and (more or less) taking care of him. But Wang Yibo has rejected this from the very start, so hanging up a phone call is nothing. He’s not in the mood for nagging.

Fights are common. Cold wars. Or, to be more exact, Wang Yibo treats him like he treats the air around him – invisible. Sometimes Xiao Zhan loses his temper, and then they would quarrel – bitter, fierce quarrels, full of harsh words, no matter how cruel they sound. Almost all the glasses at home seem to have been smashed at least once. The only thing they haven’t done so far, is to physically fight.

Wang Yibo sees himself in Xiao Zhan now. Sees the him from four years ago, confused, ignorant, carrying that burning torch for his crush, circling around him. It fills him with revulsion now, thinking about it. The same way he is repulsed by Xiao Zhan’s current behaviour.

Xiao Zhan doesn’t seem to have given up. WeChat messages arrive, one after the other, his phone alert tone going off for almost a whole minute.

“Remember to eat regularly.”

“Your favourite food is in the fridge, remember to heat it up in the pot before eating.”

“If you need to stay up for work, don’t drink, it’s bad for the body.”

… …

“I’ll be in Hangzhou for three days, let me know if there’s anything you want, I can bring it back for you.”

One of their fiercest fights had been about phone calls and messages. In the end, Xiao Zhan made him agree – he can hang up on him, but he must pick up; he can ignore his messages, but he must reply – as to what he replies, that’s up to him.

Wang Yibo replies with an “o”.

After changing his clothes, Wang Yibo lays on his bed, nibbling on two pieces of bread that he took from the kitchen. After all, he hasn’t eaten anything since dinner yesterday.

Objectively speaking, Xiao Zhan is very good at taking care of the apartment. The plants in the living room always look lively, energetic. There are always vegetables and fruit in the fridge. Expired food is never found in the kitchen. Every room is neat and tidy. And when he has to travel for work, he always prepares Wang Yibo’s favourite dishes, leaves them in the fridge for him.

Everything seems fine. Perfect. But old hurts, old wrongs… they don’t fade that easily.


	2. Chapter 2

It is already late afternoon when Wang Yibo wakes up. He spends some time in bed, playing around on his phone, before he hauls himself up towards the kitchen to make some food. Well, to reheat the food that Xiao Zhan left in the fridge. Same thing.

The meal inside the Tupperware container had been carefully planned, a small portion of rice, some meat, some vegetables. Wang Yibo cannot help the begrudging respect he has towards Xiao Zhan’s culinary skills – after all, he himself had never once thought about making food for Xiao Zhan, even at the peak of his infatuation. The most food-related aspect he went to was to find reasons to loiter at the school canteen, and then when Xiao Zhan appeared, unsubtly (by natural progression) join him for a meal.

He had no experience with crushes, with pursuing someone. It was simple in his mind - he likes this person, he wants to see him often. With his position as class monitor, it was easy – thanks to the sheer amount of reasons a class monitor can have for looking for their form teacher, he was able to see Xiao Zhan almost four and a half days out of five. And when it came to the weekend, Wang Yibo spent most of his time lingering around that little street of stores near the Foreign languages faculty (and occasionally, practicing piano at the music rooms), so it wasn’t long before he’d figured out Xiao Zhan’s weekend habits. As a result, they met up practically every day of the week.

It came to a point where even Xiao Zhan’s classmates recognized him.

“Wang Yibo, looking for Teacher Xiao again?”

The moniker “Teacher Xiao” was a favourite of the girls in his class. The boys generally called him “Zhan-ge”. But Wang Yibo doesn’t like either of them – he calls him Xiao Zhan.

“Xiao Zhan, your class monitor is looking for you!”

A lot of girls studied in the School of Foreign Languages. Consequently, there was a lot of gossip.

“Really, Wang Yibo, if I didn’t know that Xiao Zhan broke up with his ex-girlfriend less than a year ago, I’d think you two were…”

“Shoo. Stop saying bullshit to the kids.” Xiao Zhan appeared, interrupting the girl.

…

That was the first time Wang Yibo heard about Xiao Zhan’s ex-girlfriend. He didn’t hear the whole thing, and he heard the word “ex”, so he didn’t spend much time thinking about it.

Xiao Zhan was probably trying to win her back when he was in England, Wang Yibo thinks, with no small amount of bitterness. As he follows the trail of his thoughts, the food in his mouth feels like plaster - dry, hard to swallow. 

It was no longer pleasant to keep eating. Even the Tupperware that the meal sat in looks ugly, wrong. He gets up and throws the whole thing into the dustbin.

“Ding.”

It’s his phone again. Wang Yibo feels his frustration rise. _It’s time to get that alert tone changed._ He’s heard it so much, he’s sick of it.

“Come a bit earlier today. Help the ensemble warm up a bit.”

It’s his boss.

This oddball superior of his. Born to wealthy parents, he had gone to school in South Korea, returning with unremarkable grades and remarkably eccentric ideas. For the past two weeks, Boss had been considering adding an unconventional classical Chinese group to the club. Not very unconventional, actually, since classical Chinese-style music had been making quite a comeback on the radio, but thinking about having a classical Chinese ensemble in a nightclub, with a pipa, erhu, guzheng or whatever on the stage, combined with the tacky coloured strobe lights of a night club… Wang Yibo feels the beginnings of a headache. Will he have to wear Hanfu to deejay, next time?

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

He massages his temples, sends a reply.

“How was the gig I recommended, did it go well?”

“Not bad, lasted from midnight to five, and they still had energy.”

He rarely takes on such late-night gigs, nowadays. But it had been a friend of Boss asking him for help at his new nightclub. The remuneration was good, and he had nothing else to do on Wednesday night, anyway, so he couldn’t refuse.

It was just another addition to his already screwed up, unregulated mess of a life.

Autumn in Beijing comes with strong winds. It might be sunny and 20 degrees outside, but when you take into account the wind-chill, it drops to 12 or 13. But Wang Yibo likes this kind of weather – the kind that sends a gust of air up your whole body the moment you step out of the door. For him, it’s a refreshing change from the apartment. It’s comfortable inside, sure, but he gets bored and irritated if he stays there too long.

“Yibo! Come, they’re starting their rehearsal.” Boss sees him as soon as he steps into the club.

The five people on stage don’t look much younger than him. They’re probably around the same age as he was, young potentials, unearthed by Boss from university.

Between the five of them, there’s an erhu, guzheng, pipa, yangqin and dizi. The players are decent, Wang Yibo thinks, watching them as they rehearsed. The group is coordinated. He’s not very sure about how a standard classical Chinese music set is supposed to sound like, but it seems okay. He’s just not sure how the audience will react to it.

After the rehearsal, they sit together, tucking into the food delivery that Boss had ordered.

“What do you think? Not bad, eh?” Boss casts a glance at him, clearly fishing for praise.

“It’s okay. We’ll see how it does at night.”

“It’s Thursday, there won’t be much of a crowd. We’ll take this opportunity to try it out, see if there are any problems.” Boss turns towards the ensemble, his voice taking on an encouraging tone. “You guys better not get stage fright later, ya?”

“You’re quite something,” Yibo says. “You wanted a classical Chinese music ensemble, you really got one.”

“Of course. Speak for yourself! Didn’t you also join me back then? Look how far you’ve come. Oh, but I’m not planning on letting your piano skills go to waste. I’m thinking about something new.”

“I still have the skills. I’m just not using it.”

“That’s good. Because I remember, when I was overseas, I saw a lot of bars that doubled up as nightclubs, you know? They just get a little band, a singer or whatever, then they open on the weekend nights for some good business.”

“So?”

“Those places, they’re open in the day too! In the day, they’re normal bars, cafes… they do brunch and afternoon tea, too.”

“You want to open a breakfast stall? In here? You’re gonna have to find a good cook.”

“…” Boss flaps an irritated hand at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. What I’m saying is, it’s a bit of waste, isn’t it? We close at 11pm from Mondays to Thursdays because there’re no customers, and yes, I know our weekend business is good, but we’re missing out on potential earnings.”

“I don’t know these things. These are all business issues, you know it better than I do. What’s this got to do with me?”

“God, let me finish. I know our place is a bit tacky compared to those restaurants out there, but maybe, we can move towards a more… artistic direction? Afternoon tea, perhaps? With some nice piano playing in the background, to attract the customers? I actually came across a nice piano the other day, shall we have a go at it?”

Wang Yibo can see the light in his eyes, as bright as the midnight street lamps along Chang An street.

“It’s not my money anyway. As long as you pay me, I’ll do it,” he says, with typical Wang Yibo straightforwardness.

“But of course. I’ve never neglected you.”

That much was true. Boss does not lack the capital to do what he wants. He’s also honest, doesn’t put on airs, and treats the staff in the club well. He is especially fond of Wang Yibo, whom he sees as a younger brother. When he first started out as a DJ, it had been Boss that introduced him to this industry, set him on the path. Yibo progressed, because he realized he likes it.

There is a sudden vibration from the table. Boss’s phone rings.

He immediately picks it up and glances at the screen. Throwing a furtive look at the still-eating Yibo, he leaves the room.

“Did something happen? Why the call?”

Despite already standing outside the door, Boss speaks in a very low voice.

“No, I’m just out of town for work.” Xiao Zhan’s voice issues from the phone. “He’s arrived?”

“Yeah.”

“Has he eaten?”

“He’s eating right now. God, all this fussing, why don’t you call him yourself?”

“He’s already hung up on me once, if I do it again, there’ll be a fight… So sorry, I had to trouble you.”

“Bloody weird, the two of you. Fighting over this kind of thing?”

“It’s always these kind of things that cause fights, yeah.”

“Well, he’s fine, normal. Eating right now. Is there anything else?”

“Thanks. And nope. I’m not home these couple of days, please keep an eye on him for me… make sure he doesn’t drink so much.”

“Alright, alright.”

Ever since Xiao Zhan brought Wang Yibo home from the nightclub and gave him a place to stay, an unexpected liaison materialized between Boss and this elite member of society. The entirety of their liaison rests on a particular Wang Yibo and nothing else; when he gets drunk, or when he stirs trouble, Boss informs Xiao Zhan. Xiao Zhan doesn’t seem to mind, though he occasionally bothers him with a phone call or two. Like today. Balancing the account, he supposes.

After ending the call, he returns to the table. Wang Yibo is surprisingly still eating, as though today’s food had somehow ignited his appetite.

“Hungry today?” Boss asks. He can’t help but feel a bit of guilt.

“Who was it? To make you go all the way out to pick up the call?” Yibo ignores his question.

“Ah, someone from home.”

“Who from home? I’ve been to your house, what do you have to hide?”

“My dad, God, it’s my dad, okay? You haven’t met him before. He wanted to ask if… Diudiu has eaten today.”

“Your dad cares that much about your dog?”

“Well, I mean, he was sick a couple days ago, I just brought him back from the hospital. Dad wanted to ask how he was doing.”

“You had to go somewhere private for this sorta thing?” Wang Yibo finishes his meal, set his chopsticks down. He gives Boss a suspicious squint.

“Well I don’t always know what he’s going to ask, I get nervous every time he calls, okay, of course I’ll pick it up in private,” Boss huffs.

Wang Yibo gives a small tsk, but he lets it go.

The performance that night could be described, more or less, as “smooth-sailing”, but then again, the kind of people who would go to a nightclub on Thursday are not your average patrons. A few of them could be considered Wang Yibo’s fans, and they provided some warm support for the performance.

Afterwards, Boss stayed behind to discuss performance issues with the new ensemble members, so Wang Yibo leaves first.

Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest days of the week. Wang Yibo moves non-stop for five hours, spinning the discs from 11pm to 4am the next day. On the way home, he has to pause – lean against the street corner and smoke a cigarette – before he can calm down.

Wang Yibo was still asleep, exhausted by the blur of the past two nights, when Xiao Zhan arrives home on Sunday afternoon.

The apartment doesn’t look too different from how it did when he left, Xiao Zhan thinks. The kitchen has no smell of smoke – Xiao Zhan surmises that Wang Yibo didn’t use the stove, which meant that he didn’t eat. Two jackets lay in a pile on the sofa. A backpack had been thrown carelessly on the floor, flattening a pair of shoes beneath. Still, Xiao Zhan is thankful – he didn’t walk into some terrible scene. One has to be grateful for the small things.

As the time they spent together grew, and as Xiao Zhan’s fortitude reached impressive proportions, Wang Yibo stopped trying to provoke him. He used to do it constantly when he first moved in.

Xiao Zhan remembers the first time he’d returned home from work travel. The fight that commenced was excessive, even by their standards. It was also the first time they’d broken things.

Back then, he’d rushed back on the first flight to Beijing, hoping to reunite with him as soon as possible. But he stepped into an ugly scene - Wang Yibo, sprawled out asleep on the sofa, with two unknown girls lying lopsidedly on the floor, surrounded by five or six bottles of red wine.

That burst of rage he had felt is still fresh in his memory. He’d pushed his luggage aside, stormed forward, thrown the girls unceremoniously out of the apartment before smashing the wine bottles lying on the floor. It wasn’t until he’d broken the last one that Wang Yibo opened his eyes.

“Xiao Zhan! It’s so early in the morning, are you fucking insane?!”

“Me insane? Who’s the insane one, Wang Yibo? This is our home, who said you could bring other people back?”

He remembers, back then, feeling uncontrollably furious. But Wang Yibo had actually smiled at him.

“Clearly, you are. You call this our home? This is an arrangement, that’s all. We’re housemates. I’ll bring whoever I please. Besides, you weren’t even home, what’s it to you if I bring a girlfriend or two?”

“Girlfriend? Two? Fucking impressive, one on each arm, do you fuck them at the same time too?”

“I’d be happy to, is that your business?”

“Fine, it’s not, I just want to remind you, Wang Yibo, you’re fucking gay!”

“Am I? Let me tell you something. I quit it a long time ago.”

Xiao Zhan found this the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Do you hear yourself? Quit being gay? Just like that! Remarkable, aren’t you?”

“You’re absurd. Xiao Zhan, if you can say that your taste changed, why can’t I say I quit it, then?”

“Wang Yibo!” He’d touched a nerve. Xiao Zhan picked up a few wine glasses from the coffee table, hurled them in front of him. Him and his hateful words. They shattered next to the person’s feet.

Wang Yibo was still sitting on the sofa. He looked at him, his voice steady.

“You want to break things? Fine, then-“

With a violent sweep his arm, Yibo sent the glasses on the table flying.

How that fight got resolved was no longer important. Maybe it was after one of the times Xiao Zhan brought Wang Yibo home, drunk out of his mind. Maybe it was after one of the rare meals they shared together. Whatever it is, both of them silently decided to move on.

Xiao Zhan used to believe that time heals everything. Now, he realizes his ignorance. Wounds may heal with time, but the scar will always be there. It may fade, but it will never disappear.

“You’re back…” Wang Yibo had woken up. Still a bit dazed from sleep, he’d opened his door to see a formally-dressed Xiao Zhan in the living room, and had subconsciously greeted him.

A simple, befuddled greeting, and yet it burrowed into Xiao Zhan’s ears and softened his heart. Xiao Zhan smiles. “Yeah, I’m back.”

In that moment, Xiao Zhan felt himself thrown back in time. As if he’d returned to four years ago, as if that little class monitor, constantly following around him, was back.


	3. Chapter 3

From Xiao Zhan’s point of view, their first meeting four years ago actually did not leave much of an impression on him. He only noticed this little class monitor after military training started.

During the training period, university freshmen were supposed to report at the parade grounds every morning, standing in drill formation while their form teachers took their attendance. This was easier said than done – the number of students numbered in the sheer thousands, and every single one of them was wearing camo. And a hat. Most form teachers take some time to locate their classes; some get hopelessly lost during the process. But not Xiao Zhan, though. Because he’s never mistaken that little class monitor, standing in front of his class, for anyone else.

Despite the presence of the drill instructor (sometimes standing next to him!), Wang Yibo greeted him with a smile every morning, and a warm “Xiao Zhan”. Sometimes, he’d even sneak in a wave of his hand.

That bygone youth reminded him of the September sun. It shone, clear and bright, its warmth coaxing gentle smiles from the people below.

Xiao Zhan did, then. He smiled.

“Xiao Zhan, everyone is here. I’ve made sure of it.”

“Xiao Zhan, we’re gonna sing some army songs later, do you wanna come listen?”

“Xiao Zhan, the instructor says you are supposed to inspect our dorm bathrooms tomorrow, I’ll come along with you?”

“Xiao Zhan, our marching is really good, the instructor praised our class again.”

“Xiao Zhan, we have a performance at the end of the training, come give us some support?”

…

One month of military training is not a very long time, and their interaction had been limited to these everyday matters. Unknowingly, it was not just Wang Yibo who grew into his role, but Xiao Zhan, too. Xiao Zhan got used to it, just like how he got used to Yibo’s smiles and waves, Yibo’s enduring presence as the class monitor, standing by his side.

Military training ended right before National Day. Some of the students made plans to return home, visit their families. Some of the others decided to visit a theme park.

It was the first time Wang Yibo called Xiao Zhan.

“Xiao Zhan, will you be on campus during the National Day holidays?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Some of the class people want to go to a theme park, maybe for a couple days, do you wanna go?”

“What, you want an old man like me to go on a rollercoaster? You kids go have fun.”

“For God’s sake, you’re only a few years older than us… It’s the first class gathering! Is that a yes or no?”

“Nah, I’m not going. I need to work on my thesis.”

…

In the end, Wang Yibo didn’t end up going, either. He’d gone to the library to do some self-revision, and bumped into Xiao Zhan on the second day of the holidays. They spent the remaining six days of break together.

Wang Yibo, a piano student, spent exactly zero time practising the piano during the break. Instead, he stayed with Xiao Zhan in the library, reading novels quietly beside him for six days.

Once, after lunch, Yibo fell asleep on the library table. Adorable as it was, back then, Xiao Zhan only felt a fleeting sense of amusement.

He left to get some books from the shelves. When he returned, Yibo was stirring. Dazed with sleep, he’d said to him, (in almost exactly the same way), “You’re back…”

_Yes, I’m back. But you, where did you go?_

“Have you not been eating at home?” Xiao Zhan’s voice is warm, calm. They haven’t seen each other in three days.

“Yeah…” Yibo replies. He gulps down a couple mouthfuls of water in the kitchen, heads back to his room.

“What would you like to eat today? I’ll make it.”

His reply came in the form of a door to his face.

It’s a good thing he’s used to it.

He removes his blazer, enters the kitchen. The food that he left in the fridge is still there. Xiao Zhan throws it into the dustbin, cleans the containers, and starts making dinner. Yibo should have some food before he leaves for work.

As he busied himself in the kitchen, he hears Wang Yibo leave his room.

“I’m going.”

Xiao Zhan looks up in alarm. Wang Yibo had tidied himself up – his hair is neat, he’s wearing a casual suit in the same shade as the blue on his head.

“So early? Do you want to eat something first? I’ll be done soon.”

“I’m not going to work today, I’m meeting Boss to test out a piano. Not sure what time I’ll be back, won’t be joining you.” Wang Yibo doesn’t wait for his reply before stepping out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

The saucepan is ready, the washed cabbages are in his hand.

Xiao Zhan sets it down. He doesn’t feel like cooking any more.

He’s not sure when it started, but Yibo starts hanging up on him with increasing frequency. He doesn’t stay at home when Xiao Zhan is around. Their meetings have become rare – and when they do speak, his replies are terse, his voice cold and icy.

Their last “normal” conversation happened one month ago, when Xiao Zhan picked him up from the nightclub. Wang Yibo had gotten drunk again, his whole body teetering as he walked. Xiao Zhan had had to stuff his stumbling figure into the passenger seat and buckle his seat belt for him. It was strangely easy - drunk Wang Yibo was a lot more pliant than his usual self.

Xiao Zhan was driving them home when Wang Yibo started mumbling to him.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home.”

“Your home?”

“Yeah. It’s your home, too.”

“No, I live at the school dorms… But it’s so late now, I probably can’t go back…”

“Wang Yibo, you’ve already graduated.”

“Oh… Yeah… I’ve graduated. That’s good. I’ll never have to go back… back to that horrible place.”

“You don’t like the university?”

“I will never like it again…”

“Why?”

“That place, it’s tired… Liking, it makes me tired… So tired…”

“I’m sorry… Let me be the one liking you, for a change. Okay?”

There was no reply. Wang Yibo had fallen asleep. Xiao Zhan is not sure if Wang Yibo remembered what he said that night, but he did notice that Wang Yibo avoided him a lot more after that.

He also noticed that Wang Yibo had recently cut down on his drinking; he no longer got as smashed as he used to. Considering his workplace, Xiao Zhan knows this is not an easy thing to do.

Because of his dislike for frequent business trips, Xiao Zhan takes on a digital translation project. Now, unless there’s an important meeting that he has to attend in-person, he doesn’t even need to step out of the apartment door. 

He gives the apartment another tidying up. It happens when he picks up the trashbag, ready to bring it down to the rubbish collection area – he discovers the half-eaten meal, gone rancid by now, still sitting inside the Tupperware container. So that’s where the container he was looking for went to.

It’s odd. He’s still cooking the same food, and Wang Yibo was never a picky eater, so why the recent change…?

If Wang Yibo was willing to give him an answer, he would’ve asked him a long time ago.

Except for the occasional drunken episode, their interaction for the past half a year has been minimal, their conversation brittle. In fact, the fights probably provided more information than the conversations did.

And, well, if it wasn’t for them being drunk, all those months back… This torturous arrangement may not even have existed.

Half a year ago, Xiao Zhan returned to Beijing. It didn’t take long before he got back in contact with his former class, who welcomed him into their WeChat group with open arms, happy to have their handsome, gentle ex-form teacher back with them. However, the group was missing a class monitor.

He’d privately messaged one of Wang Yibo’s old dorm mates then, and discovered that the class monitor was changed during their second year – because Wang Yibo had resigned. He’d also discovered that, in the three years that he’d been away, the boy had changed drastically, and had started working in a nightclub after graduation. No one seemed to know which, though.

Maybe it was fate, but Xiao Zhan bumped into him at the very first nightclub he went to. It had been an occasion, a gathering of his colleagues, and Xiao Zhan had found him. The boy on his mind, and has been, for the past three years.

It wasn’t a good reunion. They met into each other at the toilet, and they’d both been drinking. Wang Yibo was already drunk. Xiao Zhan had spotted him at the DJ deck, shrouded and illuminated in turn by the shadows and strobe lights, inebriated and high out of his mind. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away.

Wang Yibo no longer looked like how he did, three years ago. Despite that, and despite the chaotic environment they were in, Xiao Zhan had recognized him in an instant. He moved, as if drawn by a thread, following him as he moved down the stage.

“Wang Yibo.”

The boy had glanced at him, then continued moving towards the toilet. His expression was blank, indifferent.

Xiao Zhan felt a painful twist in his gut. He stepped forward, stopping him at the toilet entrance.

“Wang Yibo, it’s me.”

He saw a brief flash of confusion in those eyes before Wang Yibo visibly tried to pull himself together. He peered at Xiao Zhan.

“Huh… Xiao Zhan? You’re Xiao Zhan?”

He is really drunk, Xiao Zhan thought, watching the tottering figure before him. If not for the wall he’s leaning on, he may have slumped on to the floor.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m back.”

“Hah, really, you’re back…” Wang Yibo gave a harsh laugh.

“Yes, I’m back because I wanted to find you, I want to tell you-“

“Tell me what? Wasn’t what you said three years ago enough? You want to tell me how much you hate me, again? I told you I’ll piss off, and I did, I deleted everything, I even changed my phone number, moved out of school… Xiao Zhan, I don’t need you to remind me.”

“No, I came back to tell you, I, I like you…”

Wang Yibo laughed then, a crazed, unrestrained bark of mirth, as though he’d just heard the best joke in the world. “Okay, I’m definitely drunk. Are you really Xiao Zhan? He will never say that.”

Wang Yibo tried pushing past him.

“I’m sorry…” Xiao Zhan extended his arm, held onto the drunk man. Wang Yibo didn’t resist. A shadow of mirth was still on his face.

“I have a girlfriend,” Wang Yibo said.

“Don’t lie to me, I spoke to your classmates.”

“So… you’re so sure that I still like you, like I did three years ago?” Wang Yibo suddenly leaned into him, closing the distance.

The warmth radiating from him. The closeness. Xiao Zhan felt a wave of heat.

“But I like you…” He held Wang Yibo’s hand, interlaced their fingers.

“Really?” Wang Yibo pressed himself against Xiao Zhan’s body, pressed himself close. “This much?”

Xiao Zhan replied by pushing him against the wall, pressing him against the cold brick.

A wet, long, heated kiss, a bravado spurred on by the heavy taste of alcohol on the other man’s lips. He kissed him until he forgot his reasoning, his hostility. He kissed him until Wang Yibo’s knees went weak, until he was desperately clinging onto Xiao Zhan’s neck.

Xiao Zhan felt the change in him. Leaning against the side of his neck, he extended a curious tongue, lapping and nibbling at Wang Yibo’s earlobes.

Xiao Zhan murmured into his ear. “I’m never going to leave you again.”

Drunk in a haze of lust and alcohol, Wang Yibo put up no resistance when Xiao Zhan brought him home. What followed was a night of burning passion, stemming from three long years of pining desire – and Xiao Zhan released it all into Wang Yibo’s body, again and again.

“Wang Yibo… Wang Yibo…”

He called his name, over and over, in exchange for the trembling body and soft moans of the boy beneath him.

As though every call, every thrust, every touch could press the meaning into him, what he always wanted to say _\- I missed you, I really like you, I think I may even love you._

The next day, however, things didn’t happen as he hoped.

They’d been woken up by the ringing of Wang Yibo’s phone. Wang Yibo had been frozen for a moment, as though stunned, before jumping up to answer the call. The harried, angry voice of a woman issued from the speaker, an impassioned rebuke, and then the words “break up.”

Xiao Zhan didn’t know what to do. He didn’t think that he’d actually had a girlfriend.

He thought about saying something to break the silence. But Wang Yibo didn’t even look at him before getting out of bed, putting on his clothes. Thanks to last night’s activities, his movements were a little stiff.

“Wang Yibo…” Xiao Zhan sat up, called to him softly.

But Wang Yibo left the room without looking back once.

Worried, Xiao Zhan threw on some clothes and rushed out after him.

“Wang Yibo… last night we-“

“I can pretend that nothing happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were both drunk, it’s understandable.”

“I’m sober! Wang Yibo. I really do like you. I came back to be with you.”

Wang Yibo finally looked at him.

“Xiao Zhan, are you sick in the head?”

“Yes. Just take it as that, okay? I am sick, I’ve been sick for the past three years.”

Wang Yibo couldn’t suppress a mirthless laugh.

“You weren’t sick three years ago. Don’t forget, you were the one who was dead set on moving to England. I spent three years healing from what you did, Xiao Zhan, I’m not going to play with you anymore. Look, even my girlfriend’s involved. No more games, we‘re done with this.”

He waved his phone in front of Xiao Zhan before walking out, slamming the door as he went. Xiao Zhan didn’t even get a chance to reply.

Maybe his habit of slamming doors started that day. If there were a hundred doors in between them, Xiao Zhan would say, out of the hundred, maybe half of them are closed, bolted shut.

He wonders if they’ll ever have a chance to stand together before the rest of them close. Him next to Wang Yibo, on the same side of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... this story has a happy ending, i swear!! ><


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Clairo《Impossible》](https://c.y.qq.com/base/fcgi-bin/u?__=adXIt3v)

The piano inspection goes well. Pleased with the outcome, Boss buys it on the spot, with an arrangement to have it delivered in two days.

“Do you have anything else on? Otherwise, we can have dinner and I’ll send you home after.” Boss is in a good mood, as usual, and was already planning to invite Wang Yibo for a meal the moment the piano was purchased.

“Sure.”

“For someone who hasn’t played in so long, you’re pretty good! What song was that? It sounded nice.”

“It was nothing. Just some random tune.”

Looking at the sullen expression on Wang Yibo’s face, Boss decides not to probe. It’s probably related to the person at home.

“Did Xiao Zhan just return today?”

“Yeah…”

“Yibo…” Boss sighs. He keeps his hand on the wheel, he doesn’t even turn his head. But his voice takes on a serious note. “You’re like a younger brother to me, I don’t want to see you like… Ah… Can we talk about it?”

“About what…”

“I don’t know what it was that made you to agree to live with him. I know how he treats you, but recently… Are you just gonna let it continue? You don’t even talk to him about it, you’re always avoiding him.”

That much was true. In fact, it had been Wang Yibo who raised the idea of testing the piano today. Boss had left the house only after he received the call.

“What else can I do, it’s tiring to fight all the time. If I don’t avoid him, we’ll start punching each other soon.”

“I’m being serious. What were these six months for, then? Yibo, what’s the point of living together if it’s so painful? I’ve got no comments about him, but you… why don’t you just spare yourself all this, okay? If you’re worried about lodging, I can help you find one.”

“Hah… yeah, I think there’s no point, too.”

They lapsed into silence.

“Wang Yibo, are you not able to let go of him…?”

“… Maybe.” When he’d sat in front of that piano and unconsciously played that tune, he knew. No matter how ugly things got between them, no matter how many glasses they smash, Wang Yibo won’t be able to forget him.

“What kind of inconsistency is this? If you have a disagreement with him then just go and talk it out! Since you can’t let go, then why don’t you fix it?”

“I don’t know…”

He feels that Xiao Zhan’s idea of who he is probably still the same one from all those years ago. That must be why he’s so insistent on liking Wang Yibo – he must be hoping for him to return to that innocent, passionate youth he was. But everything has already changed. After that fateful day, that youth from before no longer existed.

A significant amount of attention was paid to the university freshmen, so as to encourage their growth. Like how the students in the School of Foreign languages were expected to do daily morning readings and revision, the students in the piano classes were expected to be at the music rooms every day for practice. The freshmen administrator arranged for the class monitors and form teachers to be present for every practice session – attendance was even taken. With such a formal schedule, the students had no choice but to report dutifully for practice every weekday.

When it came to the weekends, however, the students were a lot more relaxed. Despite the Dean’s frequent exhortations to work hard, to not be lazy, it was difficult for the freshmen, young teenagers who had just graduated from high school, to follow the instructions to a T. The moment the weekend arrived, they’d whooped and departed from campus in droves, itching to explore the world outside. Wang Yibo had no complaints there – it fit into his plan to summon Xiao Zhan to the music rooms perfectly.

After the hubbub of the weekdays, the music rooms on the weekends were contrastingly empty. Only Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan remained.

“Not bad, Wang Yibo. I’m surprised you’re actually able to sit still. Not going out this weekend?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I’m different. I’m the form teacher. Even if there’s only you left, I’ll still have to be here to supervise.”

“The school said supervision is during the weekdays, not the weekends.” Wang Yibo replied unhappily. So Xiao Zhan’s only here to supervise him, as the form teacher?

“Are you angry about that?” Xiao Zhan teased him. The change in his tone had been obvious. “I’m not complaining, this place is really nice. I don’t need to fight with other people for seats, like in the library. And I get to have Wang Yibo playing the piano as my BGM.”

“Oh… So you don’t actually want to go out for the weekend?”

“Of course I do. But I’ve got no choice – postgrad is busy, there’s lots of things to do.”

“Then… it seems like I’ll be the only one here on the weekends. Would you still want to come down?”

“Of course. If you come, I’ll come, too.”

To many students, the music rooms are a bleak place, reminding them of all the time they spent confined for piano practice. To Wang Yibo, however, it was a place of warm memories, the times that he spent with Xiao Zhan filling every corner of the room. The music room they used was sparse, plainly decorated, with a window that faced west – but it captured every inch of the afternoon sun that shone through, every bit of warmth that entered, all the way until dusk arrived. Even the portraits of the famous musicians that hung on the dull grey walls were interesting. Even the standard black and white piano that sat inside felt alluring. That was how it seemed, in his original memories.

That was why he chose that place for his confession. He’d even hoped that Xiao Zhan would stay.

Instead, that warm room from his memories changed. After that day, it became the past that he no longer wished to see.

At the end of his freshman year, there was no longer anything binding them together. Wang Yibo bundled up the boy that he used to be – naïve, sincere, _weak_ – into a tight ball, left him there, and never stepped into that room again.

After dinner, Boss sends him home.

“Yibo…” he gazes at the outline of the person outside his car, couldn’t resist saying a few more words. “Please think carefully about it. Don’t be so stubborn, and don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Wang Yibo gives him a backwards glance, says nothing. Turning, he walks into the neighbourhood.

The apartment is dark when he enters, plunging him into a fleeting moment of panic. Quickly, he turns around, pulling open the front door that he’d just carelessly shut. The warm yellow light of the corridor spills in, giving him some reassuring illumination as he gropes around for the light switch.

Xiao Zhan had been working inside his room. Upon hearing the noise outside, he comes out in a hurry.

“Yibo? Ah, I forgot to leave a light on, hang on… stay there, okay? I’ll find the switch.”

Wang Yibo doesn’t resist. He stands obediently by the door frame, bathed in yellow light.

With a click, the living room lights turn on.

“Thank you,” he mumbles. It is surprising – a revelation, perhaps – Wang Yibo realized that he had always been coming home to a lit room, and unconsciously gotten used to it.

His phobia of the dark stemmed from his childhood, spending those long periods alone at home. But it had been something he’d said in passing. He didn’t expect Xiao Zhan to remember it.

“You’re welcome, have you had dinner?” Xiao Zhan, actually a little bit surprised, gives a small smile. Wang Yibo had returned much earlier than he expected, and his attitude was a lot calmer than usual. 

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

Wang Yibo enters the kitchen for a drink of water and sees the washed cabbages.

“You didn’t eat?”

“Yeah, I forgot.”

“What… you’re so busy that you didn’t eat or turn on the lights.”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t reply. He walks into the kitchen, starts tidying up.

“Xiao Zhan…”

Wang Yibo stands there, watching, as Xiao Zhan stores the washed cabbages in a container. “Let’s end this.”

A splash. The plastic container falls into the sink, spraying Xiao Zhan’s hands with water.

“What do you mean?’ Xiao Zhan turns around, stares at him.

“I’ve decided to move.”

“Why?”

“This location is too far from my workplace.” Avoiding his eyes, Wang Yibo shifts backwards, stands against a cupboard.

“I can fetch you, I’m not going to travel for work anymore-”

“Our lives are too different.”

“Wang Yibo. Tell me clearly, what are you hiding?” Xiao Zhan knows, he can tell – Wang Yibo has something on his mind, but he’s not saying it. Wang Yibo still likes him, surely, but he resents him at the same time… Xiao Zhan knows that.

“Hiding? Maybe I’m hiding from you. Who was it who begged me to live here?” As though Xiao Zhan’s words had triggered him, Wang Yibo reacts like an angry porcupine, raising his quills – his words carrying barbs of rage and disdain.

“You don’t need to provoke me. It’s been half a year, I’m used to your words.”

Except for the earlier spike of shock, Xiao Zhan is calm. He’s just not sure if this time will be like the previous times, all the times that Wang Yibo had lashed out at him, full of hurt and vengeance.

His voice softens – an olive branch. “Wang Yibo, let’s not argue…”

Wang Yibo is still, stunned for a moment. He hears the tenderness in Xiao Zhan’s voice, the disguised plea.

He breathes, retracts his temper. “I’m not arguing… I’m doing this for our own good.”

“What brought this on? The piano session this afternoon?”

“Xiao Zhan, I… I still don’t understand why you came to find me.”

“I like you.”

“You’ve said that so many times. Do you really like me, or do you like that person from four years ago?” Wang Yibo doesn’t look at him. It is the first time they’re having a conversation like this, without yelling or smashing things, and yet it feels more exhausting than their fights ever did.

Hi digs out a pack of smokes and a lighter from his pocket. Lights one, surrounds himself with a hazy smokescreen.

Xiao Zhan doesn’t speak. He gazes at the boy, shrouded in smoke, like he is looking at a stranger.

“It’s been four years, Xiao Zhan…” Wang Yibo takes a drag, a sad, small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Four years ago, in that music room that afternoon… Do you still remember what I said?”

(Xiao Zhan, why are you always looking for the past? Always hoping to find what’s already lost?)

“These past six months…” Wang Yibo doesn’t wait for him to reply. As though he had thought something interesting, his voice takes on a tone of mirth. “I guess I was taking my revenge on you, when I agreed to stay. Revenge for coming back so easily, for messing up the life that’d I spent four years trying to fix. But six months is long enough. We’ve fought enough, shouted enough. Continuing like this also isn’t fair for you, right?”

His voice is soft, his tone as gentle as the smoke that enshrouds him. Floating in the air for a brief, transient moment, before dissipating – but, like invisible needles, the smell of cigarette smoke invades Xiao Zhan’s nose, forces its way down his throat, into his lungs, finds its way to where his heart resides. Wraps it up in painful barbs, stabbing him as he breathes.

Xiao Zhan doesn’t smoke, which explains his sensitivity to it. He gives a small cough as the cigarette in Wang Yibo’s hand goes out. His eyes sting. 

He opens his mouth, tries to say something. “Wang Yibo… four years ago, I-“

“It’s all in the past.” Wang Yibo cuts him off.

Without looking at Xiao Zhan, he turns and walks into his room.

It’s almost 2am. Xiao Zhan stares at the display on his phone screen before shoving it again under his pillow. He can’t sleep...

His mind echoes with the words Wang Yibo had said, a constant, resounding voice.

“It’s been four years…”

“Some revenge on you…”

“It’s all in the past…”

And

“That afternoon…”

Four years ago, that afternoon.

It was the day right before summer holidays started. The faculty of Music had gone into holiday mode long ago, and there was nothing else for the Music students to do, but Wang Yibo still submitted a request to stay in school over the holidays. He’d spent those days split between music practice and sticking to Xiao Zhan like a limpet. Xiao Zhan was busy, then – he was finishing up the last of his assignments and preparing for his move to England in September.

Xiao Zhan had no idea where Wang Yibo heard about his overseas exchange, but he noticed that Wang Yibo’s demeanour became serious after that. Thankfully, final exams were already over, so Xiao Zhan didn’t spend too much time worrying about him. He knew that Wang Yibo often kept the things on his mind hidden tight; asking him would get him no answer whatsoever. He’ll let him work through this one on his own.

They’ve known each other for almost a year by then, so Xiao Zhan was long used to receiving various invitations from him - sports meets, class meetings, the spring outing, a movie, or maybe a meal together. As long as he had the time, Xiao Zhan never declined. So when he received Wang Yibo’s message that afternoon, he didn’t think too much about it before making his way down to the music rooms.

The boy had been sitting in front of the piano, surrounded by a layer of warm sunlight. It illuminated the tips of his hair, speckles of glimmering brightness. Xiao Zhan had walked up to him then, sat down on the piano bench next to him, as usual.

The song he was playing was melodious, and vaguely familiar somehow. He may have heard it before, but he’s not sure where.

The song finished. Wang Yibo had looked at him then, had said those words. Those words that he spent four years repeating to himself.

Then came a quick, gentle kiss, on the side of his lips. So quick, he was not even sure if it counted as a kiss.

In that moment of blind panic, Xiao Zhan had pushed away the person next to him, stood up. And Wang Yibo, thanks to the force of his push and the suddenly unbalanced piano bench, had fallen to the floor. He groaned in pain – he had struck his elbow against the piano.

Xiao Zhan had forced himself not to look at him. He turned to leave, but Wang Yibo grabbed his wrist.

“Xiao Zhan, I’m serious-“

“Let go of me!”

“I’m sorry, I…” Wang Yibo had stared at him, helpless.

“Let go!” Xiao Zhan brutally shook him off.

“Xiao Zhan… I’m sorry, this is my fault, I, I offended you…Please, Xiao Zhan, please don’t go…”

He didn’t turn his head. But he did pause.

“Xiao Zhan, I… If you don’t like me, I can accept that, but please… will you promise not to ignore me? Don’t ignore me, okay? Please?”

“…”

“Xiao Zhan, I know you’re leaving, I know you’re going to England, but… but you’ll come back, right?”

He had heard the pain in Wang Yibo’s voice, the sob that he’d been holding back. But he hadn’t replied.

Just before he left the room, coldly, callously - he thought he heard Wang Yibo again, saying something behind him. But it was faint, and distracted as he was by the shocking events that have already burnt itself into his mind, whatever it was that Wang Yibo said faded into insignificance.

Actually, what caused him to lose his composure that afternoon was not the confession itself.

It was a flare of emotion, buried deep inside his heart – so deep, so dark down, hidden in the folds of his desires and secrets – and in its unexpected unearthing, had transformed in panic into antipathy, revulsion.

Buried deep inside his heart, so deep that he himself hadn’t noticed – was a growing spark of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Paaaain :')_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You are my cigarette  
>  In awakening me  
> In sneaking into my system  
> In stimulating my cravings  
> You kept me addicted more that nicotine ever did_

Wang Yibo hears the quiet slide of his room door. He opens his eyes; his body stays still under the covers.

Footsteps, very soft, as if the person is barefoot, walking over, carefully climbing into bed behind him.

It’s Xiao Zhan.

He tucks the blankets quietly around Wang Yibo, then scoops him into his arms, but then, as if worried that Wang Yibo won’t like the pressure, raises his arm slightly.

Wang Yibo makes no sound, no movement. He’s astonished. Curious, why Xiao Zhan would do something so out of the ordinary.

Despite their living arrangement, (and except for that very first night of alcohol-induced impulse), this is the first time they’re being so intimate with one another. He can feel the body heat of the person behind him, through his clothes, through the blanket, suffusing him with gradual warmth. Especially that arm resting around his abdomen. Yibo relaxes, his breaths evening out.

A muffled sigh. He feels the distance between them narrow, the tips of Xiao Zhan’s fringe tickling his nape, a soft fuzz.

“Wang Yibo…”

Xiao Zhan’s voice is very low, almost like a sigh.

“England, was terrible… The entire three years, I thought about you.”

Wang Yibo had quietly gone to the airport that day the day of Xiao Zhan’s departure, to send him off. He had hidden behind the crowd, standing in the corner next to a convenience store.

It was only when Xiao Zhan was about to vanish into customs that he turned around, blending into the sea of people.

He didn’t know that Xiao Zhan had turned around then, at the very last moment, right before he entered customs, and caught the sight of Wang Yibo’s retreating back.

Xiao Zhan had been avoiding him ever since that disastrous confession happened. And he, too, seemed to have been hurt by Xiao Zhan’s reaction. It’s been a while since they met, but Xiao Zhao would recognize that back in an instant. A tall, slim boy, distinct in the crowd, both hands thrust into his jean pockets, head bowed as he moved against the crowd, heading towards the exit.

At that moment, all he felt towards Wang Yibo was a bag of mixed emotions. But no matter what, Xiao Zhan wished him well, so he dug out his phone and sent a message.

“Wang Yibo, I’m leaving now.”

_Forget about me. Your university life will be even more exciting, and you’ll meet a person who’ll move your heart again, someday. It will be wonderful._

Xiao Zhan had more things to say, but he kept them in his heart. Looking back now, maybe the reason he had been unwilling to tell him was because he was hiding himself, out of selfishness.

After a ten-hour long flight and transfer, Xiao Zhan, switching on his phone in the arrival hall of Heathrow Airport, finally received his reply.

“Don’t worry, I won’t disturb your life.”

From then on, the lines of communication between them severed, and Wang Yibo well and truly vanished. Even the rest of his classmates seemed to have been given the cold shoulder - the various students Xiao Zhan managed to contact didn’t have his new number.

The occasional bits of information he heard was mainly,

Wang Yibo doesn’t hang out with people…

Unless he’s got lessons, he doesn’t come to campus…

He started smoking…

Someone bumped into him at a nightclub…

The counsellor caught him away from his room past curfew…

Afterwards, he heard that Wang Yibo rented a room and moved out of the campus dorms in his senior year. Xiao Zhan, full of worry and longing, wished that he could rush back to school, rush back to him.

Originally, the reason was his studies. Then it became work, guided by the helpful hands of his mentors and seniors. A continuous stream of projects, meetings, various things to do, jobs to complete… all these little tripwires, constantly interrupting his plans to return home. He spent three years abroad, returning only once – and that was a rushed trip, solely to settle his visa application.

Until six months ago, when Xiao Zhan finally, ecstatically, landed in Beijing.

He’s back, and he’ll never have to leave again.

“Wang Yibo…” he sighs. “You’re wrong.”

_“I’ve seen the best of you and the worst of you... And I choose both.”_

His voice is nice, especially when he speaks English - Wang Yibo has always thought so. His tone is gentle, but the words are clear, each and every one of the syllables caressing his eardrums, flowing down to his heart. Like the arm on his abdomen, it’s not forceful or constricting, but yet it captures him – Wang Yibo finds himself unable to escape, unable to leave.

“Wang Yibo, stay… please?”

Xiao Zhan is not a forceful person, but he has a strange, irresistible power.

_“I choose both.”_

Such a soft, simple sentence, but it sends his heart into overdrive.

Wang Yibo stays awake.

He knows the person behind him stays awake, too.

It isn’t until the distinct glow of the streetlamps outside gets replaced by the faint light of dawn that Xiao Zhan finally, tiredly, falls asleep. Maybe he’s used to staying up late, because despite the tiredness that Wang Yibo feels, he remains wide awake, counting the steady, even exhales of the person behind him. After he is finally sure that Xiao Zhan is truly asleep, Wang Yibo sits up with care, pausing to spread the blanket fully over Xiao Zhan’s body before leaving the room.

A quick, quiet wash of his face, a change of clothes, and Wang Yibo is out of the door. It’s not yet seven thirty, but Beijing’s peak hour has started in earnest – the buses and subway stations are crowded with people, participants in the morning rush. Wang Yibo does not join them, opting to visit a small food stall near home for some warm wonton soup.

He had only taken a few bites before Boss called. “Yibo, you’re awake? You don’t need to come to work for the next two days, I’m doing some renovation work, gonna change up our décor a bit. It should be done by… Thursday afternoon, I think. Just nice for you to take a break for now.”

“It’s fine, I’m already outside, I’ll go over soon. Talk later when I get there. Don’t we still need to tune the piano?”

“But it’s crowded, peak hour… want me to pick you up?’

“No need. I’m having breakfast outside.”

“Huh. Didn’t manage to get through to him…?”

“No… but I’ve said what needs to be said. He’s sleeping right now.”

“Eh? That’s weird, he’s not working today?”

“I don’t know…”

“… You just left him there? You’ve really decided to move?”

“My soup is getting cold. Let’s talk later.”

“Yibo, you-“

Wang Yibo hangs up the phone in a well-practised motion before returning to his wontons.

After finishing his breakfast, he feels somewhat better. He’d been hungry – but now, not a single drop of soup is left, and he is sated, no longer feeling as cold as he felt when he first left home. The only source of discomfort left is a slight throb in his temples – a headache, due to a sleepless night.

It takes him almost thirty minutes of standing by the roadside before he manages to get a cab, so by the time he arrives at the club, Boss is already there with the renovation workers. He doesn’t say hi. Instead, he flops down on a sofa nearby, watching as Boss gives instructions about the work.

The renovation team is just a small group of three people. And the proposed work turned out to be quite simple, just some rearrangement of the interior. Boss doesn’t like trouble when he can help it, so with the design already in mind, he goes about explaining it thoroughly to the workers with the help of a diagram, emphasizing the details to a T. By the time he discovers the person at the sofa, Wang Yibo had almost fallen asleep.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Boss hands him a cup of water.

“Yeah…”

“How was the talk?”

“Alright, I guess…”

“So you’re moving out?”

“…”

“Seems like its still not decided, or else you wouldn’t be sleepless now. Look at how tired you are, so unlike you…”

“I don’t know, it’s…he’s very complicated…”

“Speak for yourself, you’re not much better. Wang Yibo, after all this time he’s been back, have you truly tried to understand him?”

Wang Yibo replies with silence. He wants to. But he’s also scared of it, scared of understanding what happened in the three years they’ve been apart.

“… One month.”

“Eh?”

“I’ll stay for one more month. Then I’ll move.”

“As long you’ve made up your mind. Do you need help with lodging? I can keep an eye out?”

“Okay…”

Boss doesn’t press any further, opting to keep an eye on him as he loiters in the nightclub. The air is sometimes filled with conversation from the workers, intermittently punctuated by the noisy sound of their tools as they worked – in the midst of all this hubbub, Wang Yibo falls asleep.

It’s almost noon. Boss looks at the prone person on the sofa. After some hesitation, he takes out his phone and sends a message to Xiao Zhan.

“He’s at the club.”

He receives a phone call in reply.

“He was there all along?”

“Yeah, since the morning.”

“Why didn’t he pick up his phone?”

Xiao Zhan had slept only for a short while when he woke up to find the person beside him gone, and the apartment otherwise empty. He immediately started calling, of course, but none of the calls had been picked up. Now that he’s received Boss’s message, Xiao Zhan finally feels a sense of relief.

“He’s asleep, hasn’t woken up yet.”

“… I’ve got something on in the afternoon, help me tell him when he wakes?”

“Okay.”

The phone call ends. Xiao Zhan stays there, deep in thought.

_Wang Yibo’s been at the club all morning, and he’s asleep, that means… and he didn’t push Xiao Zhan away last night, but he left so early…_

_What did he think about Xiao Zhan’s words?_

Xiao Zhan has always known that Wang Yibo keeps his innermost thoughts to himself, cool, reserved. It wasn’t so bad when they first met, because he had still been immature enough to reveal his happiness (or lack thereof) on his face, but as the months passed, he grew more and more reticent. Thanks to their frequent interaction, Xiao Zhan used to be able to guess (with decent accuracy) what Wang Yibo was feeling back then, but the Wang Yibo of now – cold and taciturn – is an unknown entity to him.

His room seems to reflect its owner’s aloofness. It is sparsely decorated, not unduly neat, but also not unduly messy. Like a carefully constructed façade, the room looks completely ordinary, giving no clues about its owner. The only thing Xiao Zhan can discern about the person who lives there are some shiny necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings lying on the bedside table, and a couple of motorcycle helmets sitting on top of the cupboard.

He remembers inspecting the male students’ dormitories every weekend, all those years ago. Wang Yibo accompanied him every single time, looping around the various rooms, and it wasn’t long before Xiao Zhan was able to tell the boys’ personalities from their rooms alone. Even though they had been neatly arranged for inspection, he could tell from the things on their desks, the things on their beds, even the curtains, the colour of the bed sheets – all of them held little clues about the boys that lived there.

Back then, Wang Yibo was not unusual in that aspect. Other than a neat little stack of music scores and notes, his table held an array of rather eye-catching motorbike models, all made of metal. The couple of skateboards lying against the corner of the wall belonged to him as well. His uncommon taste, so different from his mainstream class monitor role, piqued Xiao Zhan’s attention. He’d subconsciously wanted to know more about him, wanted to understand everything about him. Looking back now, maybe that curiosity was the precursor to the longing he would feel for him, so many years later.

Two beeps from his phone interrupt his reverie. It is a message from one of his old classmates, now working at the university as one of the associates in the International relations department. There is a seminar happening this afternoon about the overseas exchange program, would Xiao Zhan be so kind as to come down and talk to the students about his experience? Xiao Zhan does not reject, so after he receives the message detailing the time and location, he quickly tidies himself up and leaves the apartment.

The campus grounds are familiar; the school hall filled with memories of the countless times he’s been there. But this is the first time he’s standing on the stage, with lights shining down, illuminating the sea of youthful faces looking up at him. He is suddenly reminded of a frequent visitor to this very stage.

Wang Yibo had barely started his freshman year when his teacher recommended him for the school orchestra, and it had taken him less than two months to get the chance to go on stage. Despite the frequent hint-dropping about his upcoming performance, and despite the blatant parading of his performance outfit in front of Xiao Zhan, Wang Yibo just wouldn’t tell Xiao Zhan that he wanted him to see his performance. Xiao Zhan could see his intention from a mile away, but he also found the roundabout hint-dropping extremely cute, so he pretended not to know what he meant. In fact, this lasted all the way till the performance day, when Xiao Zhan himself was literally sitting in the audience. Wang Yibo still didn’t say anything, just sent him a message:

“Xiao Zhan, I’m a bit busy today, won’t be able to find you at the office.”

After the performance ended, Xiao Zhan stood near one of the backstage doors, waiting. It wasn’t long before he saw that youth, coming out with a surprised but pleased expression on his face.

‘Xiao Zhan! Why’re you here?” Wang Yibo couldn’t hide the happiness on his face, the way his eyes curved, like crescent moons.

“For the performance, of course.”

“I thought you didn’t know about it.” He had the cheek to look a little bit aggrieved.

“Yeah, initially I had no idea. But _someone_ kept reminding me of it, so of course I had to come.”

That year, whenever Wang Yibo had a performance, Xiao Zhan would attend without fail. Honestly, he doesn’t know that much about music, don’t even talk about the standards or nuances of it – but perhaps his reason for going, seeing, listening… is just simply that person on stage.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [C4C《Last Chance》](https://i.y.qq.com/v8/playsong.html?ADTAG=erweimashare&_wv=1&appshare=iphone&appsongtype=1&channelId=10036163&hosteuin=owvloi4z7io%2A&media_mid=003Sk8P50zYSHU&openinqqmusic=1&platform=1&songid=&songmid=003Sk8P50zYSHU&source=qq&type=0)

Not a lot of people knew about Xiao Zhan’s return to China. Some of the few that did were old classmates and ex-teachers that he’d kept in contact with, and they immediately took the seminar as an opportunity to meet up. The moment the event ended, Xiao Zhan was invited to dinner.

But Xiao Zhan hasn’t heard from Wang Yibo the whole day. Out of concern, he sends a message:

“I’m busy tonight, will be back late, remember to eat.”

But Wang Yibo doesn’t reply…

Xiao Zhan spends the whole meal distracted, glancing recurrently at his phone. Such was his inattentiveness that even his old professor, sitting next to him, noticed something amiss. When Xiao Zhan looks at the screen yet again, Professor Liu couldn’t help but open his mouth:

“Waiting for a call, Xiao Zhan? From your girlfriend?”

“Haha, no.”

Their conversation drew the attention of the others at the table, and it wasn’t long before Xiao Zhan became the focus of it.

“Xiao Zhan, wasn’t that girl - what’s her name? – also in England? Did you guys meet up? Y’know, when you two broke up, I thought it was such a shame…”

Gossip is an unavoidable part of dinners like these. Xiao Zhan has no choice but to hitch a smile onto his face, and reply:

“You people think too much. Really. We bumped into one another at a class gathering once, that’s it. We’re not in contact.”

“You see! I knew it, I said those were just rumours, but back then _everyone_ was saying you went on exchange to pursue her!” Someone piped up.

Xiao Zhan finds this a bit amusing, but decides to refrain from explaining.

“What about now? Do you want us to introduce some girls to you? There are some juniors from our faculty-“

“No need, thank you.” Xiao Zhan interrupts the speaker (who is clearly showing signs of intoxication) with a humourless laugh, hoping to change the topic.

Noticing his tense mood, Professor Liu steps in, directing the gossipy conversation towards something more proper by talking about the seminar. The topic shifts, then, with everyone showering Xiao Zhan with thanks for his attendance.

“Xiao Zhan, did something happen at home today?” Nearing the end of the meal, Professor Liu pulls him aside at the restaurant corridor. “If it’s urgent, you should go first, I can deal with the rest of them.”

“Oh, thank you… It’s actually nothing much…” He _had_ thought about leaving early. “It’s just, I’m sharing with a housemate right now, and I’m worried that I’ll disturb him if I go back too late. He didn’t reply to my message.”

“Then you should go back first, it’s getting late. You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Ah, I took up a translation project recently. It’s busy, but I’m working from home now.”

“I see, I see. Ah, Xiao Zhan, I’m really happy. Out of all my students, you’re the only one who actually made translation into your career… Well, we’ve met, now, you should go back soon. I don’t think you need to go in and say bye, they’re all drunk by now. Just ignore them.”

“Oh, then… Thank you, and sorry to trouble you, Professor. I’ll be in Beijing, let me know if there’s anything! I’ll head off first!”

They exchange a few more pleasantries after that, then Xiao Zhan turns around to leave.

“Oh yes, Xiao Zhan, do you remember that time you became form teacher for that class in the School of Music?” Professor Liu asks.

School of Music. That’s a phrase Xiao Zhan hasn’t heard in a long time. He whirls around. “I do, Professor. Why?”

“Ah, it’s nothing much. Just, that boy who used to follow you around, I’m not sure what his name is… he came with you to my lectures, that one.”

“Yeah, I remember him. What’s wrong?” How did his professor know Wang Yibo?

“Are you two still in contact? After you left, he still kept coming, though I’m not sure where he got the lecture schedule from… An interesting boy, for sure.”

“He… how many times did he go?” Xiao Zhan feels the gears in his brain turning, shadowy elements linking up with one another.

“Haha, it’s not a matter of times! He attended them for almost three years after you left, about once or twice a month. Especially if I’m showing the English documentaries that day - he shows up like clockwork. I wonder if he’s just an avid fan of those.”

“The documentaries… But you only have two, you show the same two every time.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I thought he was interesting. It’s always the same two shows, but he’ll appear every time without fail.”

…

Professor Liu grumbles a while more about how students nowadays have no initiative or interest in learning before letting him go.

None of it enters Xiao Zhan’s ears, however. He smiles, nods in response, leaves, sits in his car. Drives home.

His mind is filled with memories of that boy pestering him, asking to go to his lectures, all those years ago.

“Xiao Zhan, we’ve got no more classes today.”

That afternoon, Wang Yibo didn’t run off at the end of the weekly class meeting like his classmates did. He’d stood next to the podium, waiting as Xiao Zhan packed his stuff.

“Not going to go back and rest?”

“That’s too boring. What else do you have on? Anything I can help with?”

“Wow, Wang Yibo, I think you’re no longer a class monitor, you’re vice-form teacher. Aren’t you sick of following me every day?”

“Are you sick of me?”

“No, not at all.” Xiao Zhan grinned at him. “But I still have lectures today, you don’t need to wait for me.”

“What lecture is it? Can you bring me along?”

Having someone attend lectures with you, back then, was something to be proud of - because the person sitting next to you was either your sweetheart, or an incredibly good friend.

But back then, Xiao Zhan didn’t think too much about it.

“It’s two and a half hours long, are you sure you can sit through it?? At least, you can move your hands during piano class, but sitting still in an English class…” He caught sight of Wang Yibo’s disappointed expression then, and suddenly remembered that today’s lecture, coincidentally, was an extracurricular that involves watching an English documentary. “However…”

“…oh.”

“What oh, luckily for you, it’s not a lecture today, we’ll be watching an English documentary.”

“…ah.”

“Ah, what? Come on, we’ll be late.” Xiao Zhan extended his hand, ruffled the mop of hair on Wang Yibo’s head. “Are you coming?”

“Yes!” Wang Yibo snatched the backpack and laptop from Xiao Zhan’s arms, as though scared that he’ll change his mind. “Let’s go let’s go. I’ll help you carry this.”

The lecture hall was very dark that day, the curtains pulled shut, the room solely illuminated by the bright beam of the projector. They’d sat there for more than two hours, not talking, listening to the conversation in that film, the narrator, the music. Because the class will be going through the translation of that film tomorrow, Xiao Zhan was busy – listening intently while frantically taking notes, deathly scared of missing out any bit of content from that screen. But every time he looked over at Wang Yibo, he saw that the boy was also watching with unusual focus.

That documentary, it was…

His phone rings, chasing away that inkling of memory.

“Xiao Zhan, has Wang Yibo reached home?” It was from Boss.

“I’m still on the way home, why?”

“Nothing much, it’s just that I was busy, didn’t manage to send him home today… But when I tried calling him just now, he didn’t pick up. When you get back, help me tell him to come in tomorrow afternoon, to try the new piano out.”

“What time did he leave?”

“About two hours ago, from the club. He didn’t manage to get a cab cause of the night peak hour so I sent him to the subway station… oh, and he drank a bit…”

“How much?”

“Not that much, he only had two drinks. But he didn’t look very good when he left, so maybe keep an eye on him.”

“Got it. I’ll check if he’s back at the apartment first.” This is a very ordinary thing, surely, but Xiao Zhan feels strangely anxious. He hangs up the phone, increases his speed.

As if to confirm his anxieties, the apartment he returns to is dark and quiet. The only source of light is coming from the window, shining through the curtains that someone had forgotten to close, sporadic blurs of neon and brightness from the street outside.

“The number you have just dialled is currently unavailable, please try again later…”

He still can’t get through…

No signal…

Wait, the subway…

He remembers Boss saying that they’d parted at the subway.

Xiao Zhan grabs the keys, leaves without delay.

Late autumn nights in Beijing are very cold, full of chilly wind carrying hints of the approaching winter. The people that are still out at this time are ensconced in numerous layers of clothes. Among them, Xiao Zhan appears a little out of place, sprinting towards their subway stop with his coat wide open. But he doesn’t feel cold at all – in fact, there’s already a light sheen of sweat on his back.

He checks all four exits, but he sees no sign of Wang Yibo. He calls him again and again, but none of the calls are going through. No matter how busy the night peak hour is, it shouldn’t have taken him more than an hour to come home.

Worried that they might miss one another at the different exits, Xiao Zhan buys a subway card and goes down to wait at the platform.

It’s already past 10pm. The subway is quiet, bare in the cold night. Except for the occasional wave of commuters arriving with each passing train, Xiao Zhan is alone, sitting on a bench at the station platform.

After a short while, a garbled conversation, somewhat muffled by the subway announcements overhead, catches his attention:

“How do you feel?”

The response is very soft. Xiao Zhan can’t hear it.

“Are you sure? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“…”

“You don’t seem very well, why don’t you sit here and rest for a bit? I’m still on duty, just shout if you need me.”

Xiao Zhan turns around. He sees two people coming out from the toilets – a policeman, supporting a boy with blue hair, leaning against the wall.

“Wang Yibo…” Xiao Zhan runs over, holds him on the other side. “What happened?”

Wang Yibo is shockingly pale, his whole body bent over, clearly in severe discomfort. He doesn’t shake off Xiao Zhan’s arm around him – in fact, he even leans in slightly.

“You are?” the policeman enquires.

“I am his-“

“…Housemate…” Wang Yibo says hoarsely, cutting him off.

“Ah, I see. I’m the policeman on duty here. About half an hour ago, your friend got off a train and just leaned against the wall, not moving. I came down to have a look after I saw him on the CCTV, got him to the toilet, he just threw up. Now that you’re here, I can get back to my duty.”

Xiao Zhan thanks him profusely. Wang Yibo, suppressing his discomfort, gives the policeman a little bow in appreciation. After he leaves, Xiao Zhan brings Wang Yibo to the bench, staying with him as he rests.

Wang Yibo has always been such a lively person, full of energy – even when they’re fighting, he was upright, spirited, strong. Looking at him now, so ill and fragile…

Xiao Zhan can’t bear to see him like this.

What makes it worse is the fact that he’s seen Wang Yibo properly ill before.

Boys are a minority in the School of Music, and the boys who would willingly run around for sport are even more so. As a result, when the Sports Meet came around every spring, it wasn’t hard to gain a bit of an ego.

Wang Yibo, with his class monitor status, long limbs, and occasional basketball-playing, became their representative. As a mark of the high hopes pinned on him, he was signed up for three events – the long run, the relay, and the long jump.

Xiao Zhan had had the same fate in undergrad, so he spent that period teasing him about the expectations on his shoulders, comforting him about his participation, and occasionally, advising him to put in more training for the event day itself. Wang Yibo had seized upon his words then, and asked him to train with him. Xiao Zhan, unable to decline, ended up meeting Wang Yibo at the running track every night for more than two weeks, doing laps.

The Sports Meet went well; their class results were decent. Some of them were even good – like the long run, which Wang Yibo clinched the gold medal in. The truly unexpected thing, though, happened a couple days after that.

Two days after the Sports Meet was over, Xiao Zhan received a call from one of Wang Yibo’s dorm mates at night.

“Teacher Xiao, uhm… could we apply for a pass from you to leave the dormitory? Or do we need to inform one of the counsellors?” He sounded very anxious.

“You can talk to me. Did something happen?”

“Yes, we want to go to the campus hospital, there should still be people there at this time, right…?”

“What? What happened?” Hearing the word “hospital” had sent an immediate spike of worry into Xiao Zhan’s mind.

“It’s Wang Yibo, he hasn’t been feeling well since the Sports Meet yesterday, but today it seems to have gotten worse, so we’re thinking of bringing him to the campus hospital, to get it looked at. He… I think he’s short of breath.” There was a distinct tremble in the voice on the line. The boy was barely an adult.

“That’s nonsense… I’m fine… It’s just a cold.” Xiao Zhan could hear Wang Yibo on the line, cutting in intermittently.

“Get all your stuff ready, I’m coming over now. I’ll have a word with the dormitory admin then bring him to the campus hospital.” Xiao Zhan made a quick decision, then hung up and rushed out his room.

He had just finished explaining the situation to the admin auntie when Wang Yibo appeared at the foot of the dormitory block, supported by three of his dorm mates.

“I need one person with me. The other two can go back up.” Xiao Zhan immediately rushed forward, holding the boy against his side. “Wang Yibo, are you okay?”

He stared at the way the youth leaned against him - his lanky frame weak, his face awful, his lips devoid of colour.

“I’m fine…” His breathing was indeed unsteady.

“Don’t talk, I’m bringing you to the campus hospital now.”

Xiao Zhan noticed the thin clothes that Wang Yibo was wearing, and thanked his lucky stars that he had brought a jacket and a hot water bottle before leaving his room. “You’re sick and yet you’re wearing just this…” he muttered, wrapping the garment over him and pulling the hood over his head before zipping it fretfully all the way up to his neck.

The campus hospital was small, with only two doctors on duty at night. Surrounded by four half green walls, illuminated by harsh energy-saving fluorescent lights overhead, and accompanied by a whole room full of reflective medical instruments, Xiao Zhan held the person next to him in a worried embrace, pulling the hood low over his forehead as they waited for the doctor to appear.

“… I’m fine, what’re you doing…” Wang Yibo mumbled tiredly, unable to stop his ministrations.

“Stop looking around. Just rest, lean against me, the doctor will be here soon,” Xiao Zhan said anxiously.

But the doctor did not bring any good news.

“Based on the symptoms he described, it appears to be a common cold, however, he looks dizzy and short of breath. Has this fatigue and low fever also been going on with the cold for a while?”

The dorm mate sitting on the side quickly answered. “I think he was already feeling unwell two days before the Sports Meet, but we all thought he was just tired from training every day.”

“Hm. I see. It’s like this, Teacher.” The doctor looked gravely at Xiao Zhan. “This campus hospital is very limited. I think it’s likely that this boy has a simple cold and residual fatigue from yesterday’s Sports Meet, but I cannot rule out myocarditis, because his symptoms appear a lot like it. I recommend that you bring him to a proper hospital as soon as possible – with proper medication and infusions – because I cannot guarantee the outcome here.”

That night, Xiao Zhan had made the call to bring Wang Yibo to the city hospital, and he remains thankful that he did. After a physical examination and an ECG, Wang Yibo was admitted that very night for myocarditis, just like the campus doctor said. But there was no danger, thankfully – due to the timely medical attention he’d received, his condition wasn’t serious. Even so, he still had to be admitted for two weeks.

During those two weeks, as soon as Xiao Zhan was done with his duties in school, he’d go to the hospital to accompany Wang Yibo. Sometimes, he’d bring some fruit for him, or snacks. Xiao Zhan was there when he took his medications and received his infusions, and he watched as Wang Yibo slowly recovered - going from that sickly, feeble condition on that first day back to his usual sprightly vigour – and then he brought him back to campus, returned him to his role of class monitor, continuously orbiting around him. Somehow, Xiao Zhan felt that that’s the way it should always be.

He’d actually spent some time reading up about myocarditis, after that. Maybe the internet exaggerated the severity of the condition, or maybe it was actually true, but Xiao Zhan felt a shiver of fear every time he revisited the events of that night. His first time as form teacher, his first time encountering such a difficult situation, and the person involved was his own little class monitor, whom he cared very much about…

“Please allow others to disembark before boarding…”

The announcement plays, yet again, from yet another train that has just pulled into the station. Groups of commuters step off the carriages, then a series of piercing beeps issue, the glass doors shut, and the train starts moving. Leaving the station, taking the bustle with it, returning the platform to its quiet state. This happens again and again, the commuters dwindling with every train, the platform becoming quieter after every disembarkation.

Xiao Zhan looks down at the person leaning against him, feeling distressed. Wang Yibo is still grimacing, his brows scrunched on top of his closed eyes, his lips devoid of colour.

“Where’s the pain? Are you sure we don’t need to go to the hospital?” Xiao Zhan raises his hand, presses it to his forehead. No fever, thankfully.

“No need…” Wang Yibo replies, his voice hoarse. “It’s just some gastric pain.”

“It’s a bit cold here, are you able to stand up? We have medicine at home, and you can get some warm water for your stomach, that’ll help you feel better.”

“… Okay.”

Hearing his agreement, Xiao Zhan helps Wang Yibo up from the bench, holding him close.

What usually takes only a few minutes to traverse takes them almost twenty, stumbling along the road. Xiao Zhan brings him straight to his bedroom the moment they reach home, helping him remove his jacket and wrapping him up in the blankets before leaving to boil some hot water. By the time Wang Yibo curls back into bed, having obediently taken his medicine with a grimace and finished a cup of warm water, Xiao Zhan’s forehead was sprinkled with sweat.

“Do you feel better now?” Xiao Zhan asks quietly, automatically tucking the blanket around him.

The moment his hand touches the blanket, Wang Yibo turns, catching his wrist. His face still looks awful, and his voice sounds slightly nasal.

“No… You… Can you...” _Stay here with me_ , the words he left unsaid, the words he can’t say. A soft mumble, as though his voice has also been wrapped in the blankets with him. 

“Let me go shower and change first.” Xiao Zhan gives the hand holding his wrist a gentle pat. “Is it still very bad? Do you want more hot water?”

“…No.” Wang Yibo lets go of his wrist, looks away from him.

Watching his stiff, stubborn manner, Xiao Zhan is reminded of their time in the hospital, all those years ago.

Because of the tedious process in applying for a curfew exemption pass, it was difficult for Wang Yibo’s dorm mates to accompany him in the hospital at night. As a result, Xiao Zhan stepped up and volunteered to accompany Wang Yibo in the hospital for two weeks.

Once, he had a meeting that ran extremely late, so it was already well past midnight by the time he arrived in Wang Yibo’s hospital room. Surprisingly, the patient was still awake, staring blankly at the TV screen in front of him. Xiao Zhan, taking in the appearance of his bloodshot eyes and the hands rubbing at his temples, couldn’t help it – he slid into his role, and reproached Wang Yibo with his best form teacher voice for staying up so late.

Wang Yibo was even more difficult back then, carrying the childish stubbornness of a young adult. He’d rebutted immediately.

“Xiao Zhan, you were the one who said that you’ll accompany me! Was I wrong to wait for you?”

‘Yes, yes, I promised to come, so of course I will. I had a late meeting tonight, so you should’ve gone to bed first. But you stayed up so late to watch TV… honestly, do you still want to be discharged on time or not?”

“Of course I do! I didn’t want to be here in the first place! It’s so dark at night and, and… Anyway, I was tired a long time ago, but I stayed up waiting for you!”

“…” Xiao Zhan wasn’t angry in the first place. And now that he’d picked up the traces of information Wang Yibo had inadvertently revealed, he wasn’t able to hide his amusement. “Wang Yibo… are you scared?”

“Yes! I’m scared of the dark! I’m scared that there are ghosts in the hospital!” Wang Yibo was angry, facing away from Xiao Zhan as he curled up in the covers.

“Fine, fine, fine. It doesn’t matter if you’re scared. I’m still here with you every day, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t like going to the hospital. He’s scared of the dark. He’s scared of ghosts. He likes to have someone with him when he’s sick.

He didn’t say it, but Xiao Zhan remembers it all.

By the time he re-enters Wang Yibo’s bedroom – showered, clean, and carrying a blanket – the occupant lying in bed appears much better. Perhaps the medication had some effect - Wang Yibo is no longer frowning in pain. Right now, he looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

Xiao Zhan lies down on the other side of the bed. He reaches for Wang Yibo’s right hand, finding the webbing between the index finger and the thumb before pressing down on it. He remembers when he himself was a young boy with an upset stomach (from eating something dubious, no doubt), his mother had reached for his hand and pressed on that same area, too. He’s not sure if it’s psychological, but in his memories, he did feel a bit better after that.

“… What’re you doing?” Wang Yibo protests sleepily. He’s still ill, so Xiao Zhan doesn’t receive a rejecting push of his hand. “… Hurts…”

“That’s what happens when you press an acupuncture point, you’ll get used to it in a while. Go to sleep.” Xiao Zhan says that, but the pressure from his fingers lighten up significantly.

Thanks to that big cup of hot water, Wang Yibo’s whole body is warm and toasty. It wasn’t long before their hands, still wrapped together, became sticky with sweat.

“Next time, if you don’t feel well, you have to tell me early…” Noticing that he’s still awake, Xiao Zhan speaks, quietly. He moves to retrieve his hand, intending to turn off the lights.

“…” Wang Yibo stays quiet for a few beats, but holds his hand tight.

“… Thank you, Xiao Zhan.”


	7. Chapter 7

After a night of rest and a dose of medicine, Wang Yibo appears to be feeling much better. Xiao Zhan, hearing the sounds of him getting up from bed, sets down the assignment he was working on. He proceeds to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Wang Yibo’s stomach has always been sensitive. This, combined with his erratic eating tendencies and his drinking habit, has resulted in chronic gastric issues. It generally doesn’t bother him; his usual way of dealing with it is a cup of hot water and a gritting of his teeth. But last night’s activities – cold rice wine on an empty stomach, plus the chilled raw courses typical of a Japanese restaurant – produced a consequence that was not so easily fixed.

“Here, have some porridge.” Xiao Zhan sees him sit down by the table, serves some plain porridge to him first.

By the time Xiao Zhan sits down next to him, two more dishes have appeared on the table – a bowl of steamed egg, and a small plate of fish floss. 

“Still uncomfortable?”

Wang Yibo shakes his head; he feels fine.

“Then eat more, these are gentle on the stomach… you didn’t eat at all last night.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve talked to Boss, you can test out the new piano tomorrow instead. There’s nothing else to do at the club today, so just stay at home and rest.”

“Okay.”

…

Wang Yibo doesn’t retreat to his bedroom after breakfast. Since he’s not needed at work, he decides not to bother with changing his clothes – so he ends up lounging around the sofa in his pyjamas, playing some handheld game that filled the living room with cacophonous beeps.

Xiao Zhan returns to his assignment after delegating their bowls and chopsticks to the dishwasher. Translation is not easy; many details require additional highlighting and collation. He feels somewhat pressured by it.

Around 1pm, Xiao Zhan steps out to the balcony to pick up a phone call. Wang Yibo, who had been lying on the sofa, hears the ringtone. He unconsciously turns his head.

Xiao Zhan’s door is open, but he can’t see the person from this angle. All he can see are stacks of manuscripts on the writing desk, quite a few unopened document folders, and a red coloured packet, distinct among the sheets of white paper.

Wang Yibo recognizes it in an instant. It’s a bag of sweets; the yellow words printed on the centre of the red background indicate its name - _Jellybeans._

Faultless in manner and work. Back in university, the only words one could describe Xiao Zhan with were words like mature, reliable, things of that sort. But Wang Yibo discovered very early on that Xiao Zhan has a rather immature habit – he likes to snack. The first time this little affliction showed itself was when Wang Yibo accompanied him during his revision; he noticed that, besides a laptop and a notebook, Xiao Zhan’s schoolbag always contained some yogurt, or chocolate, or some variety of biscuits.

“Xiao Zhan, why are you so much like a kid? Bringing snacks everywhere you go?”

“If you don’t want some, then be quiet and read your book. Mind your own business.”

(Not only does he snack, he even scolded him for pointing it out…)

…

Afterwards, Xiao Zhan told him that, if he’s nibbling something while studying (especially when he’s memorizing vocabulary), it helped him remember things better, and maybe more effectively, too.

“That’s just psychological… do your vocabulary terms somehow enter the chocolate when you swallow them? And then get absorbed?”

“Who knows? But it works for me.”

…

Because of that, Wang Yibo ended up spending his weekends strolling around the little shopping street on campus, trying to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. And it worked, too – he caught Xiao Zhan buying snacks about three times out of five.

In the beginning, Xiao Zhan bought everything – potato chips, nuts (definitely), biscuits, chocolates (a must-have), occasionally a couple slices of cake, and a few packets of jellybeans.

After a few rounds of this, Wang Yibo noticed something. Except for Xiao Zhan, nobody else seemed to want the jellybeans in the little grocery store, those packets of colourful, translucent sugar pellets with the red background and yellow logo. Xiao Zhan, however, buys two every single time he’s there.

“Why do you always buy these sweets? Are they very nice?”

“Try it?” He opened a packet and passed it over.

Wang Yibo popped two in his mouth. He was immediately filled with regret.

They had looked enticing, but their taste was truly indescribable. There was no difference in flavour between the colours, and after the pigmented coat of sugar dissolved, the insides of the beans revealed themselves, tasting entirely like plasticine…

Watching him grimace as he tried to swallow, Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why would you like such a strange-tasting thing?” Wang Yibo asked, after he forced it down his throat.

“Huh, strange? The taste is indeed not great, but I think I like eating it out of habit. Especially when I’m studying. Oh yes, I came across an article two days ago, it said that the action of chewing something could actually help to relieve stress!”

“I thought you said it helped with your memory?”

“Well, if I’m less stressed, I’ll memorize things faster?”

“…Your logic is messed up…”

…

The winter holidays came and went. The next time they met, Xiao Zhan had gained a bit of weight (only a little). But, as he was in the School of Foreign Languages, the large proportion of females there meant that the first day of school was filled with chatter about who has lost weight, whose hair has grown out, and who’s wearing new clothes. Xiao Zhan, standing among them, received a full commentary about himself, with the resounding conclusion being: yes, he’s gained weight, likely due to overindulgence during the Lunar New Year.

The girls forgot about it soon after, but Xiao Zhan didn’t. Preoccupied with the thought that he’s gotten fat, he’d forcibly quit every single one of his snacks… except for those jellybeans. When Wang Yibo accompanied him to the little grocery store that week, they’d deliberately avoided the snack aisles, but Xiao Zhan bought a packet of jellybeans as usual.

After that, Xiao Zhan left.

The year that Xiao Zhan departed for England was the year Wang Yibo took his College English Test. He never liked studying English, so having to memorize vocabulary and do practice papers was an insurmountable obstacle for him. Remembering Xiao Zhan’s weird jellybean logic, he bought a packet of those sweets, too, and nibbled on them as he studied the textbook. (They tasted just as awful as he remembered.) But even after he finished half a packet of those jellybeans, he didn’t manage to absorb a single page of vocabulary. 

That was the first day Wang Yibo thought about contacting Xiao Zhan after his departure. He wanted to give him a call, wanted to tell him,

“Xiao Zhan, you lied to me. Your messed up logic was indeed nonsense.”

He didn’t manage to finish the rest of them, so he found a small container to store them in. Wang Yibo remembers, back then, that even though those jellybeans tasted somewhat awful, his spirits would lift a little every time he looked at that container full of shiny multicoloured sweets.

…

After so long, he’s still the same.

“Wang Yibo…”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t return to his work after the call, but enters the living room instead. Wang Yibo, staring at his game screen in a daze, did not notice his arrival.

“Wang Yibo…” Not getting a reaction, Xiao Zhan calls him again, softly.

“…Yeah?”

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Nope.”

“Yesterday the International relations department of our old university invited me to give a talk to the students. The result was quite good, so they’re asking me to go again today.”

“Ah.”

“Do you want to come with me, have a look around? Or do you want to stay at home? I can make some food for you before I go.”

Go back to campus… Wang Yibo hasn’t set foot on its grounds since he graduated. He avoids it, actually, even going so far as to take a detour if he happens to be in the neighbourhood. Trying to make his decision, right now, is not an easy thing to do.

After several beats of silence, Xiao Zhan roughly deduces what’s on his mind. He doesn’t say anything, but extends his arm and touches Wang Yibo’s knee. As if to say, it’s alright, I understand.

Xiao Zhan turns, then, walks into the kitchen, intending to start making dinner for him.

Except for the occasional clink of kitchen utensils, the apartment is silent. Even the game in Wang Yibo’s hands has quietened down, the screen turning black on standby.

A gust of wind blows, entering from the open window in Xiao Zhan’s room. It sweeps over his desk, ruffling the stacks of paper with a gentle _shh_ , curving around the packet of jellybeans, leaving a gentle crinkle of plastic in its wake. The afternoon sun is shining, too, coming in at just the perfect angle to hit that jellybean packaging. Such an insignificant piece of plastic, and yet the light it reflects is unusually blinding.

After half a beat, Wang Yibo gets up and walks into the kitchen, observing the busy figure in silence. After some hesitation, he opens his mouth,

“Xiao Zhan…”

The moment the first syllable falls from his lips, Xiao Zhan turns,

“What is it?”

“Stop cooking, I’ll go with you.”

…

His old schoolmate walks out of the office block just as Xiao Zhan finishes parking his car. She greets him warmly, then notices the figure behind him, getting out of the passenger seat.

“This is…” She finds his face familiar, but that shock of blue hair gives her pause. “You are that… little class monitor?”

Wang Yibo has not been addressed as such in a very, very long time. He pauses for a couple of seconds, stunned, before his subconscious manners kicked him to react with a slight bow and a soft “hello”. He retreats behind Xiao Zhan after that - after all, it’s been more than a year since he was a student, and his personality has always been a reserved one.

Noticing his behaviour, Xiao Zhan feels slightly emotional. In that brief moment, it was as though they were back to how it was, four years ago. Wang Yibo, following behind him every day, and every time they paused to greet someone, he would act the same way, too… say a soft hello before retreating behind Xiao Zhan, and wait quietly for him to finish his conversation.

“I can’t believe you still remember him.” Knowing his personality, Xiao Zhan takes over the conversation.

“I can’t believe you two are still in touch! You brought him along today?”

“Yeah, to come back and have a look around. He graduated more than a year ago.”

“Ah, he’s graduated already, time really flies! I still remember how it was back then, him waiting for you outside our classroom door. After that, I think I saw you at the International relations department once…”

The last sentence was directed at Wang Yibo. He nods in response, but does not speak. He had no recollection of this senior-now-turned-teacher initially, but upon hearing the words “International relations department”, his memory returns.

Wang Yibo didn’t manage to pass the College English Text the first time, so when he heard that the International relations department was organizing English classes during the summer holidays, he came down to enquire about it.

That day, he’d stepped into the department office, and was immediately confronted with a poster. The two students standing next to it had made it to advertise the department’s student exchange program, and even now, Wang Yibo still remembers the details – a poster, displaying the two outstanding students selected for the exchange program. A boy and a girl. The boy was Xiao Zhan. He didn’t know who the girl was, at first.

But one of the students quickly answered his unspoken query.

“Gosh, look, Senior Xiao Zhan is so handsome.”

“Doesn’t matter how handsome he is, he’s still none of your business.”

“I know, he’s already gone to England. And gone to the same school as Senior Sister, too.”

“Don’t say it, but they’re so compatible, right?”

“Yes, I think so too! I heard Senior went on exchange to England just to pursue her, I mean, think about it, going on exchange in year three of postgrad? It must be so hard.”

…

Wang Yibo didn’t manage to enquire about the English classes that day. In fact, he didn’t even remember how he got out of that department.

It was as though the poster – and the two people standing in it – had seared itself into his memory. He couldn’t seem to forget it, no matter how hard he tried. And he had to admit it to himself – they look very compatible together.

He had always known about the rumours that said that Xiao Zhan had gone on exchange to pursue his love. But deep inside his heart, Wang Yibo felt that he was special, maybe, to him. But now that he’s seen the girl of the rumours, he can’t help but start to believe it… Maybe Xiao Zhan was right. That girl was pretty, exemplary, and they had a past together – if there was some good that came out of all this, then he should be congratulating them about it.

That was his first time going to the International relations department, and that was also his last. This teacher must have seen him during then.

They had arrived on campus just in time, so they headed towards the school hall right away. The teacher spends the entire way there chattering to Xiao Zhan about the seminar; Wang Yibo, following quietly behind them, is glad to be spared from the burden of conversation.

Upon entering the school hall, Xiao Zhan is immediately surrounded by the familiar faces of old teachers and ex-classmates. Unexpectedly, the female teacher turns towards Wang Yibo, guides him to a seat in the audience.

“Xiao Zhan asked me to look after you for a while - he’ll be back once the talk is over.”

“Okay. Thank you, Teacher.”

With such an opening, it is inevitable that their conversation would turn towards him.

“I can’t believe the two of you are still in contact! But then again, you two had a good relationship even before he left.”

“Yeah…” Wang Yibo nods in agreement. He has no idea what else he’s supposed to say.

“Ah, then you must know a lot about him?”

“Still alright, I think…”

“Then, does he have a girlfriend?”

“… I don’t know.”

“Well, if even _you_ don’t know about it, then I think it’s quite unlikely that he has one.”

Wang Yibo does not respond. But this female teacher continues the topic anyway, preventing the conversation from dying.

“The group of us went out for dinner yesterday. So many people thought that he is still with that pretty girl from his class! But he said no. They were both in England for so long, but apparently they never really met up? I’m not sure if he’s lying or not.”

“…”

“He said that they met only once, and it was during a class gathering. I was really surprised! You used to drop by our faculty quite often, do you still remember it? When the news about him going to England broke, there was _so_ much talk about him flying there for a reunion…”

She continues, yammering away, but Wang Yibo has already heard the most crucial bit of information.

The hall swells with even more people, filling the air with a tidal wave of noise and chatter. Sitting in the din, Wang Yibo feels the beginnings of a headache. Then, when the lights in the hall dimmed themselves for the presentation, he feels even worse - as if some invisible weight is pressing on his chest, obstructing his ability to breathe.

Ignoring the Xiao Zhan-assigned caretaker beside him, he turns and walks out of the hall. Stops, walks, stops again. His mind is filled with white noise, buzzing incessantly – then it transforms into a voice, a phrase, looping round and round his head. “He said that they met only once.”

That first year Xiao Zhan was in England… even though they could no longer contact one another, and even though he’d recognized how compatible Xiao Zhan was with that girl… Wang Yibo continued to harbor feelings for him.

He couldn’t bear to stop. Just like that leftover portion of jellybeans, sitting on the table in his dormitory... he couldn’t bear to give it up.

Not long after his junior year started, however, Wang Yibo heard about a picture of Xiao Zhan making its rounds in the campus gossip chain. Then he received a copy of it, sent by his dorm mate. The original picture had been an accompaniment for an article, posted by the School of Foreign Languages public social media account. The article had been a publicity piece about the student exchange program, talking about some of the activities the exchange students participated in.

The two people in that photo were smiling, sitting upright, postures formal. But one of Xiao Zhan’s hands was resting on the back of the girl’s chair, which made them appear closer to one another, or at least, closer than the usual kind of public interaction one sees…

After that picture appeared, everyone in his class, no matter the gender, started talking about Teacher Xiao. They talked about how handsome he’s become, how dashing, he can become the face of that school now… … But more importantly, a lot of the talk was about how dedicated he was, going to England for that one person… they will definitely get married in the future. Things like that.

It was the first piece of news that Wang Yibo received about him since he left, the first update on his life. Along with it, came what felt like reality’s harsh mockery of him, cruel and unforgiving. His tender feelings, carefully hidden away – they were just like that container of jellybeans, dampened by the humidity of summer, sugar coats melting, spots of mould already starting to grow. It should’ve been thrown away a long time ago.

… …

What about now? What’s the use of it all?

… …

Unconsciously, Wang Yibo’s feet brought him through the cold wind to the School of Foreign Languages. The students here are still having lessons, but the lights inside their classrooms have been turned on, awakened by the darkening skies – pools of glowing light, shining out from the classroom windows, casting a blanket of white on the path he is standing on. Right around the Foreign Languages block is an office block, and next to that is the sports stadium, and behind the stadium, visible from the back door, is the campus shopping street.

After his long period of absence, the area feels strange to him, yet still familiar somehow. The two rows of shops seem unchanged, but there’s also a sense of difference in the air that he can’t quite put his finger on. That little grocery store is still there, now with a new neon sign hanging over the entrance.

Wang Yibo strolls inside. Instantly, he sees the familiar packets of jellybeans, squeezed unceremoniously into the corner of a shelf. Seems like they’re still as unpopular as always… he might as well buy the three remaining packets they have.

The moment he steps out of the store, he opens a packet and pops a few into his mouth. Yep, there was no change, it still tastes awful. Since he doesn’t require any memory-boosting at this point, he doesn’t force himself to eat the rest; stuffing all of them into his pockets, he continues his aimless journey.

The accommodation area is just up ahead. First comes the postgraduate apartment block, then comes a student canteen, then a car park, then, finally, his old dormitory block. He’s walked this route so many times – where to turn, which platform to step on… he doesn’t need to remember, or to think. He can walk this path with his eyes closed.

Standing underneath the postgraduate apartment block, Wang Yibo’s phone rings.

It’s Xiao Zhan. The seminar must have ended.

“Wang Yibo, where are you?” Xiao Zhan’s voice has an edge of panic – but it’s obvious to Wang Yibo that he is deliberately trying to talk like normal, trying to control his emotions.

“At the foot of your old apartment block.”

After he says that, the person on the other end becomes quiet, and stays quiet for a long time… Wang Yibo knows, the memories that they have – they hold too many things unsaid.

“Wait for me.”

“… Okay.”

There is a road next to the postgraduate apartment block. On the other side of that road, underneath the third streetlamp from the left, Wang Yibo sits, leaning against the lamp post, bathed in a pool of yellow light. This was where he used to wait for Xiao Zhan, back then. For a class meeting, or a dormitory inspection, or just a simple meal together… every time they’d agreed to meet, Wang Yibo would always come early, and wait for him here.

He likes that feeling. Watching Xiao Zhan emerge from the apartment block, and walk towards him, step by step… coming closer, standing by his side. Giving him a smile, before saying, “Did you wait long?’

During those times, and only during then… Wang Yibo felt like he wasn’t just his class monitor. He didn’t need to follow behind him. He didn’t need to worry about being left behind.


	8. Chapter 8

He is still sitting underneath the street lamp, hugging his knees, when Xiao Zhan finally finds him. He isn’t wearing much to begin with; sitting there, motionless in the cold wind… even his tall stature seems to have shrunk, folding itself into a crumpled ball.

Xiao Zhan rushes over, pulling off the scarf on his neck, wrapping it around Wang Yibo.

“Didn’t even look for a warmer place to wait…” Xiao Zhan’s first words to him are a censure, but even then, the tenderness in them is undeniable.

Wang Yibo doesn’t reject his goodwill; sitting on the ground for so long is indeed chilly.

He stands up, ready to leave; his hands slipping into his pockets out of habit. Then he remembers the three bulky packets of jellybeans inside.

“Xiao Zhan…” Wang Yibo calls to him, then pulls out the packets, pushing it into his hands. “… For you.”

Surprised, Xiao Zhan has to squint at them under the yellow light of the streetlamp before he recognizes it.

“You…” He is at a loss for words. “Just to buy these?”

He raises his head, staring at Wang Yibo.

“No. I passed by, bought them at random.” Wang Yibo doesn’t return his gaze - he bows his head instead, avoiding his eyes.

“You tasted them?” Xiao Zhan sees that one of the packets has a small opening. He inserts his fingers, pulls out a couple of jellybeans.

“Yeah. Tastes awful.”

“Yeah, I think so too. But I like it.”

…

He’s walked this path so many times, too… even more than Wang Yibo did. He spent a full six years of his life on this campus, but in his memories, it is this path that lives with a stark vividness – this path, with them on it.

Sometimes, late at night, Wang Yibo would walk him to the bottom of his apartment block, say a sincere ‘good night’, then continue onwards to his own dormitory.

“Xiao Zhan! We’re still studying at the library tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll wait here for you tomorrow, we can go together, I have no lessons!”

“Oh, and, Xiao Zhan, the class meeting tomorrow night, prepare early, don’t forget!”

… …

Sometimes, in the very early mornings, Wang Yibo would wait for him at his apartment block, standing underneath the third streetlamp from the left. Sometimes, they will go for breakfast at the canteen together. Sometimes, Wang Yibo didn’t manage to wait.

“Why are you eating shredded pancake while squatting on the ground? Again?”

“Fine, I’ll stand up, then… Here, I got you one too. There’s ham, lettuce, and fried egg in it.”

“I mean- It’s not a question of standing or squatting, okay? Eating something so oily in the morning is too unhealthy for you… You have to go to the canteen and eat something proper.”

“Oh, so you’re saying that my shredded pancake isn’t proper enough. Fine, then. Lucky I’m not full yet.”

Despite having already consumed two shredded pancakes, Wang Yibo – who had just reached adulthood but is clearly still growing, judging from his voracious appetite – finished a whole bowl of porridge in the canteen. Occasionally, he even stretched his chopsticks over, stealing pieces of food from Xiao Zhan’s bowl.

…

They make their way back to the car park. The group of Xiao Zhan’s ex-classmates, after some deliberation, organize themselves into the various cars available – and Xiao Zhan’s car gains two girls in the process. The four of them set off towards the restaurant, and the car fills with chatter – ranging from how things have changed, how the teachers are, how the ex-classmates are, and even, in the end, involving the ever-silent Wang Yibo sitting in the passenger seat. They address him the way they used to - little class monitor, little class monitor.

“Hey, little class monitor, your Teacher Xiao is so handsome, did a lot of girls in your class have a crush on him?”

“I don’t know.” Wang Yibo replies offhandedly, not bothering to turn his head.

Xiao Zhan, who was taking the opportunity of a red traffic light to observe him, notices his mood, steps in.

“Come on. He’s not as gossipy as the rest of you. He was busy with class things and piano practice back then.”

“Hey, it’s all your fault, okay? Professor Liu told us that you’re still single yesterday. Because of that, I ended up getting so many questions today from the female teachers, all asking about you, and all from the School of Foreign Languages, too.”

A lot of his batch mates are already married with children. Xiao Zhan knows that. He also knows that Professor Liu takes a special interest in him, so once he found out yesterday, it was inevitable that he’ll start worrying about that, too.

“I’m in no hurry.” He replies, glancing at Wang Yibo on the side.

Wang Yibo doesn’t seem bothered by the conversation in the car. He gazes out of the window, his face expressionless.

But this topic seems to have some strangely enduring tenacity – whenever someone brings it up, it has to be discussed and dissected for a while, even though there’s never a conclusion at the end of it. Even after they’ve entered the restaurant and started eating, the table conversation is still revolving around Xiao Zhan’s single status, as though it’s an ice-breaker.

He’s always been a proper person, so he deals with this with a smile on his face and a courteous reply on his lips. Sometimes a joke is cracked at his expense, but he doesn’t mind – he’s more worried about Wang Yibo, who hasn’t uttered a single word the entire night, sitting next to him.

In this rowdy restaurant, he seems entirely out of place. The people at the table are all his university seniors. On their part, they’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem keen on talking – but they are aware that he’s one of Xiao Zhan’s ex-students, so they remain respectful towards him.

Wang Yibo’s face stays blank all through dinner. And even after the goodbyes were said and the car was started, his face remains impassive as he sits quietly in the passenger seat. Inscrutable.

“They’re all talking nonsense, you know. Just making fun of me,” Xiao Zhan explains.

“I know…”

“It’s my fault, I didn’t think this through. I just wanted you to have the chance to look around. Maybe you would’ve been more comfortable at home.”

“It’s no problem. The food was nice.”

This answer usually satisfies an average person. But Xiao Zhan only feels a deeper sense of unease.

Maybe it’s because of Wang Yibo’s extremely cooperative behaviour these past few days. Xiao Zhan knows that the talk from those few nights ago has resolved nothing; he is still unable to discern Wang Yibo’s troubled thoughts. But one thing’s for sure – after that night, Wang Yibo, like a cat that’s sheathed its claws, is not slamming doors or quarrelling with him anymore. He’s no longer avoiding Xiao Zhan, nor is he rejecting Xiao Zhan’s care… as though he’s returned to his little class monitor persona.

Perhaps the light from the streetlamps overhead were too blinding – Wang Yibo has pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head, shrouding his face in shadow.

“Xiao Zhan…”

After a long beat of silence, he speaks.

“I’m so tired…”

The wave of emotion that this sentence induces in him is inexplicable; Xiao Zhan is unable to say anything to comfort him. Maybe it is the weight of the memories pressing down on them, or maybe it is the tortuousness of the quagmire they are in.

Once Wang Yibo enters the apartment, he drops everything in a haphazard mess on his bed, then heads into the shower.

Xiao Zhan, who remembered that he had left his glasses in Wang Yibo’s room last night, enters.

He finds them on the bedside cabinet, next to Wang Yibo’s mobile phone. Coincidentally, the screen lights up when he moves to pick up his glasses. Two vibrations, two messages. It’s from Boss.

“Yibo, I’ll pick you up tomorrow for the apartment viewing, okay?”

The second message is an address.

…

In that moment, Xiao Zhan felt as though all his strength had been sucked away.

These past two days, the harmony between them, the reliance… was it all a figment of his imagination? Or was it because Wang Yibo is no longer bothered by it all, now that’s he’s leaving?

At least he’s not bothered… Xiao Zhan gives a bitter smile. At least they didn’t spend the last of their time together fighting and glaring at one another. How can he still complain?

Even those packets of jellybeans he’d bought for him, sitting on the coffee table in the living room, seem to say a beautiful, multicoloured goodbye.

Due to the various reasons, they had spent the past two nights sleeping together, but tonight… he doesn’t mention it. Wang Yibo doesn’t seem to be thinking of it either, judging from the way he closes his room door after his shower. He leaves a small gap between the door and frame, to let some light in.

Xiao Zhan himself goes to sleep in a daze, late that night. But he doesn’t sleep well; the maelstrom in his head continues to swirl. He dreams of himself, standing alone by the roadside in England, trying to flag a cab… He dreams of visiting Wang Yibo at the music room back in school, watching him practice the piano…

So, despite the uncharacteristically quiet way that Wang Yibo leaves the apartment the next morning, Xiao Zhan wakes up very quickly.

After all, the first thought that sprang into his mind had been “he’s planning to leave me”. With a thought like that, how can one still go back to sleep?

Beijing has well and truly entered the winter season now. It’s past seven in the morning, but the sky is still shaded with grey. The trees in their little neighbourhood have lost all their leaves, the grass no longer looks sprightly. But it also means that the view is unobstructed – Xiao Zhan, standing next to the window, can see the recently-exited Wang Yibo very clearly. Unconsciously, he stares at that figure, watching as he walks sedately out of their neighbourhood, crosses the road, and circumvents a few children cycling to school before climbing into Boss’s car. He stares until the little saloon drives off, vanishing from his view, before finally shuffling away to wash up.

…

“Hey, are you alright? You spent yesterday resting at home, are you better now?” The moment Wang Yibo gets into the car, Boss peppers him with questions.

Wang Yibo is a little bit disconcerted at this sudden outpouring of concern. “Morning,” he says, squinting at him. 

With a response like that, Boss can’t say much else. “Hai, good morning, good morning… Seems like you’re fine, then. Made me worry for nothing.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Now, how can you say that? What do you think we’re doing right now? I’m accompanying you on your apartment hunting. And I found the apartments for you, even.”

“But I haven’t had breakfast.”

“… Fine… let’s eat…”

Boss is unable to get angry at him. After all, he was the one who had taken this precious little brother under his wing, so some indulgence is to be expected.

Precious though he may be, Wang Yibo is not a fastidious kid. He may show a bit of his personality when it comes to choosing his food or his clothes or his lodging, but he is never one for nitpicking. Boss is of the same kind of personality himself, which is why he feels a particular affinity for him. As their time slot is approaching, they stop by a roadside stall, one that doesn’t require them to queue. Two bowls of porridge and four pieces of steamed mince and eggplant later, they were done with breakfast. The whole process took them less than ten minutes.

That day, they manage to view no less than three apartments with the agent – all with superb location, layout, and price. It was not surprising; Boss had carefully selected them, after all, and the would-be-renter is Wang Yibo himself.

“How is it? Which one do you like? Or we can have a look at more?”

Looking at Wang Yibo’s prickly personality and stony expression, even the agent (many years his senior) doesn’t quite dare to speak to him. He directs a pleading look at Boss, silently asking for help.

Boss, noting Wang Yibo’s complete lack of response, gives an awkward laugh. He guides him to the side, away from the agent.

“Hey, what’s wrong? If you don’t like them, just say so.”

“… It’s not that.”

“That what is it?”

“I thought we were just looking around today…”

“What, you haven’t decided yet?”

“I- I have…”

“Come on… Okay, fine. Why don’t you leave your contact details with him, then inform him when you’re finally planning to move out? Of course, if the apartment is still available, that’s great, but if it isn’t, I guess you’ll have to stay with me for a bit while you look for a new one.”

“…”

“You’re almost done with this, don’t mess it up now.”

Boss gazes for a while at the person in front of him – indecisive, mute - before giving up, choosing to chat with the agent instead. Things wrap up quickly after that; with an exchange of contact details and a swap of name cards, they bid each other farewell. They may even have gotten a new customer for the nightclub.

The two of them return to the car. Looking at his distracted expression, Boss can’t help but ask,

“Does he know you’re moving out?”

“I said it once, but I’m not sure if he believed it.”

“That mess of yours hasn’t been fixed yet?”

“Almost. The main points have roughly been settled.”

“And him?”

“Not sure… never asked.”

“You didn’t think about his feelings?”

“…”

“Yibo. Actually, you don’t even need to tell me what happened, I’ve roughly guessed it myself. But that issue was back then, not now. Have you never thought about it this way – that no matter what happened in the past, it’s more important to look at the present? That the most important point of the past is to bring you to this point, here and now?”

“I thought the most important point of the past was to tell me not to do stupid things twice.”

“…” Boss is unable to find a reply to that.

But he sees the contemplation written in Wang Yibo’s body; he knows that his reply was just a quick retort. Wang Yibo will think carefully about what he said.

It’s past noon by the time they arrive at the club. Boss sets about organizing the place, rushing around, readying it for the afternoon tea session. Wang Yibo doesn’t slack off, either – it’s been a long time since he’s played the piano, and though he may not have _entirely_ forgotten how to play, he’s still worried that he might mess up. So he starts off with some scales for practice, then moves on to some familiar pieces. It goes well.

“Not bad, kid! The afternoon is all up to you now!” Boss, standing behind the bar counter, shouts to him from across the room.

Wang Yibo gives a rare smile of enjoyment; plays a few notes in response.

Noticing his good mood and his clear expertise at the piano, Boss feels a wave of interest.

“What was that song you played the other time, when we went to inspect the piano? That one was nice.”

“Was it?” The moment he mentions that song, Wang Yibo’s smile slides right off his face.

“Yeah, it really was.” Flummoxed, and worried that he’d stepped on some personal landmine, Boss hurries over to his side. Then he realizes, upon approaching him – this kid had no sheet music. He had been playing from his memory alone.

“You don’t have any music sheets? You just… remembered this?”

“Yeah, no scores.”

“But what if you play it wrong? Let me go find them, I can put an iPad on here.”

“I’ll still have to flip the iPad page anyway, you might as well leave it empty. Don’t worry. It’s not like people will realize if it’s wrong, anyway.”

“Do you have them at home?”

“Some of them, I think. I forgot.”

“… Hai, you… Is Xiao Zhan at home?”

“I don’t know.”

Boss places a glass of water next to him before leaving, but his concern about the lack of sheet music has not abated. He steps out the room, then heads further away, putting some distance between him and Wang Yibo before finally pulling out his mobile phone.

After a few rings, someone picks up.

“Xiao Zhan, are you at home right now?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Ah. It’s like this, Yibo is going to be playing the piano here this afternoon, but he’s got no piano scores with him. He says its fine, but I’m just worried, you know? So I’m wondering if you can help look for his old piano scores at home, and maybe bring it over later?”

“He says he still has piano scores at home?”

“Yeah, but it’s probably well-hidden somewhere. You know how long it’s been since he played.”

“When do you need it by?”

“We open around 2pm today.”

“It’s 1.20pm now… give me half an hour, if I don’t manage to find them, I’ll call you. And if I do, I’ll bring them over directly.”

“Alright. Thank you so much for doing this.”

“… You’re welcome. How… how was the apartment viewing?”

“You know about it?”

“Mm. I saw your message yesterday by accident.”

“Ah… Well, I… I’m just helping out.”

“I know. I didn’t mean anything else by it.”

“He hasn’t decided yet… And as for what happens after he does, it’s not my place to say.”

“I understand. We’ll talk later.”

Xiao Zhan hangs up immediately after that. Boss, on the receiving end, feels a shiver of panicked dread. For someone who’s usually so courteous and agreeable, his unhappy attitude has all of the intensity with none of the pleasantness. Just like Wang Yibo.


	9. Chapter 9

Half an hour was actually excessive for this task, because Wang Yibo doesn’t have that many possessions in the first place. The only place he might store piano scores at would be the little set of drawers underneath his desk; it’s not like he’s going to hide them inside the closet.

And yet, when Xiao Zhan opens the drawers, he is astonished. The drawers seem to contain everything under the sun – except the sought-after piano scores. Five pairs of sunglasses, a few models of racecars, and even some curios to do magic tricks with; all placed neatly inside.

“You know how long it’s been since he played…” Sitting on the floor, Xiao Zhan remembers what Boss had said.

The Wang Yibo of before had the playfulness of a child. Back in school, he’d actually dared to skip the general education classes to play basketball at the courts or to game at cyber cafés. But when it comes to practicing the piano, he never slacked off – in fact, out of all the students in that class, Xiao Zhan felt that Wang Yibo was the only one who brought an aura of otherworldliness whenever he played.

He will head down to the club, with or without the scores.

He moves, starting to get up from the floor, and notices the bedside cabinet in the process. That squat little piece of furniture has one drawer, making it one of the only two other locations in the room that a person might store things in (the other being the closet, of course). With a curious sense of certainty, he walks over, bends down, and pulls open the drawer.

Just as he expected, two black leather folders lay inside, stacked above one another. Xiao Zhan gives them a cursory sweep, confirming that they are indeed piano scores.

He was right. Wang Yibo would never be negligent about something as important as the piano. When he realized that he would have to start playing again, he started diligently preparing for it, just as Xiao Zhan guessed he would. Xiao Zhan is not sure, however, if these piano scores have been recently brought out, or if they have always been stored here.

He does not delay. With the piano scores in hand, he makes his way to the club. Thanks to an absence of traffic jams that day, Xiao Zhan arrives before 2pm.

No one notices him when he enters, because Boss is fully occupied by an argument involving Wang Yibo.

“Just play that song when we open… it’s really very nice, honestly! With that kind of music, our entire establishment will feel a lot classier!”

“I’m supposed to play whatever you tell me to? Am I a jukebox? I said no, and I mean it.”

… …

Xiao Zhan has not seen such a stubborn, immature Wang Yibo in a very long time – wilfully unreasonable, with a hint of petulance on the side. He stands there, not moving, observing the two of them silently as they continue to bicker with one another. He doesn’t catch all of it – most of it was just meaningless repetition anyway – but Boss suddenly seems to think of something, and mutters a soft sentence to Wang Yibo. And in that instant, Wang Yibo seemed to cave; he sits down obediently at the piano bench, acquiescing to his request.

The afternoon sun, shining through the windows, illuminates his shoulders with a golden brilliance. It softens the tips of his hair, dyed with that cool tone; it curls around his fingertips, spreads itself across the black-and-white keys, suffusing the piano with light and colour. And the bustle of the street outside, the cars, the crowds – all of it fades away once the first note starts.

Just like Boss had said, music, songs… to Xiao Zhan, all they mean to him fall within the two categories of ‘nice’ and ‘not nice’, of ‘like’ and ‘do not like’. But the melody playing right now is one that he has heard only once before, but it is one carved with bone-deep familiarity into him; a song with a past, with love, with separation.

It had been an afternoon like this one, too. But it had been summer then, and the sunlight had carried a searing, blood-boiling heat. That little piano room, and this melody left inside it. Hiding with it a kiss that never was, carrying with it an unbearable pain.

Xiao Zhan falls head first into that memory. He remembers the boy that he had pushed to the floor by accident, he remembers the cruelty of the words that he had said, he remembers that sentence that came afterwards, soft, almost unheard-

“Xiao Zhan, why are you always looking for the past? Always hoping to find what’s already lost?”

He had always known. His conflict was already there, even before he had left him.

All the rumours that he’d never had the time to stop, never had the chance to explain… or indeed, never even had the time to bother with… they had always been surrounding him, wearing him down, chipping away at his affection and his longing for him.

His heart aching, Xiao Zhan is left with nothing but remorse and guilt.

The endless warmth in that tune, the delicate, lingering hope of love… He heard it once, four years ago, and he has never forgotten it. Its warmth was what carried him through the countless days and the lonely nights in England… and what did _he_ leave Wang Yibo with, those four long years…? He must have been so hurt… and therefore, he tried so hard to forget, to do nothing related to his past, so as to carve away that person that he had been.

But the him sitting in front of Xiao Zhan right now, in front of the piano, playing the same melody – it was as if he was speaking, quietly recounting the heartache and torment of that memory. Unconsciously, Xiao Zhan’s vision starts to blur.

He raises his hand to rub his eyes, forgetting about the piano scores under his arm.

They falls to the ground with a clatter, scattering the music sheets held within all over the floor.

The disturbance was heard; the melody ceases.

Xiao Zhan bends over quickly, trying to pick them up. But among the scattered pieces, a few seem distinctively special – it’s paper, for one thing, and unlike the others that had been stored neatly, these few look like they’ve been crumpled up into a ball before, then painstakingly spread out flat again. Also, this score, from the staves to the notes, appears to be entirely hand-drawn. Unable to control himself, Xiao Zhan picks these sheets up, trying to identify it.

He sees a song name, written at the top in English, in a handwriting that can’t quite be described as elegant, but is still generally neat.

《The Aviators》

Xiao Zhan’s hands, so busy with rearranging the piano scores, come to a standstill. The disjointed pieces of memories, surfacing and submerging in his mind… they suddenly came together.

The song name, the melody, the documentaries…

And the words that Professor Liu had said… “He attended them for almost three years after you left, about once or twice a month. Especially if I’m showing the English documentaries that day - he shows up like clockwork…”

He finally remembers. 《The Aviators》, that was the documentary they watched. It wasn’t a film about love, in fact, it was a film about mankind’s millennium-old fascination with flight, and the flying inventions that humans had made. It went from the earliest and most whimsical inventions to the long exploratory process afterwards, bringing them through the bumpy failures and the sweet fruits of success. The melody had been the soundtrack for the film, the name of the song is naturally so.

As he flips through the sheets, one page catches his attention – the final one, containing a few sentences, written in the same handwriting as the title -

**_I am the aviator_ **

**_who is always in love with the sky_ **

****

****

**_No matter the weather_ **

**_No matter the height_ **

****

****

**_And I love you the same way_ **

Wang Yibo had not expected Xiao Zhan to come. When he turned around and saw him kneeling on the floor, picking up piano scores… Wang Yibo had stayed motionless in surprise. It had been Boss, who, harboring no small amount of guilt about contacting Xiao Zhan behind Wang Yibo’s back, had immediately rushed over to help.

“Thank you,” Boss retrieves the stack of piano scores from Xiao Zhan, thanking him quietly. “This is…”

Xiao Zhan is still holding on to the pieces of crumpled paper. He looks as if he has no intention to hand them over.

“These are too crumpled, it won’t look nice up there.”

It’s a shitty excuse, but it’s also a reasonable one. Boss decides not to bother.

“Do you have anything on? Why not have a seat? It’s our first day opening as an afternoon tea spot, I hazard a guess we won’t have too many customers.”

Xiao Zhan nods, moving to sit down at a table near the window. From this angle, he can see the piano player, still sitting at his bench. From the moment he stepped into the establishment until now, Wang Yibo has not come towards him.

When he starts playing the piano again, the tune changes. Probably one of the other songs in that stack of scores he brought; it still sounds nice. Not long after, a few customers enter and Boss goes over to greet them.

That distinctive piano score is still in his hand. Running his fingers over the words, it was as though Xiao Zhan could see that boy again, slouching over the table, his head on his hand, nibbling the end of his ballpoint as he concentrated on his English grammar and vocabulary work. A little bit clumsy at it, but still trying so hard.

Wang Yibo had no affinity for languages. He didn’t dislike it, not exactly – if Xiao Zhan had to explain it, he would simply say that he’s got neither the heart nor the patience for it; refusing to grant even a portion his passion for the piano towards this endeavor. Despite the passable grades he’d achieved in the English College Entrance Exams, he still couldn’t seem to absorb the vocabulary; even the specifics of sentence structures and grammar was left up to guesswork.

“Look at those alphabets, all clumped together, there’s no sense to them at all. I can’t do it, I don’t want to memorize this anymore, let’s go have lunch… I’m so hungry…”

Knowing that his College English Test was coming up next year, Xiao Zhan had forcibly dragged him into a tutorial room for English remedial lessons the moment the second semester started. He did not want him to be outperformed by his classmates.

“Stop trying to get away from this, Wang Yibo. Are these alphabets harder or your music notes harder to remember? You can memorize all the music symbols on a piano score, but you can’t do the same for alphabets? Do you know the consequences of not passing the Test?”

Xiao Zhan, who was never able to stay firm to Wang Yibo’s wheedling and whining, was naturally also not able to let him continue on an empty stomach. But he was not above nagging at Wang Yibo even as the two of them sat in the canteen.

Wang Yibo did not seem annoyed by his nagging, though, listening to Xiao Zhan even as he shoveled food into his mouth. “I know, but I still have a year to go, what’s the rush? And, I’ve got you around. _And_ besides… … even if I don’t pass the National College English Test, I can still go for the University one. I’ll still be able to graduate,” he replied, with his mouth full of food.

“… Can you swallow your food before talking to me, please…”

“…”

He didn’t know that Xiao Zhan was going to leave, at that time. So he’d came up with all sorts of excuses to confound him, whining and avoiding his way out of English revision.

Later, Xiao Zhan found out from one of his dorm mates. Wang Yibo, after putting in a lot of effort, had not needed to take the University Test - he managed to pass the National Test in his junior year. Even though they were no longer talking at that point, and even though he was all the way in England, Xiao Zhan still hadn’t been able to stop worrying about small details like these. So when he heard the news - that Wang Yibo had finally passed – he’d spent a few days feeling ridiculously happy afterwards.

…

Now that they’ve entered winter season, the sky in Beijing darkens earlier and earlier with each passing day. Right now, it’s barely past 5pm, but the streetlamps outside are already lit. The day’s work is already done.

Boss, standing at the bar counter along with a few of the staff, is closing up for the day. The rest of the workers have long since been sent home. Wang Yibo, however, still seems to be in a pensive mood – the sheets of music have been kept away, but he remains at the piano, playing music in bits and pieces. Sometimes, the chorus of a trendy pop song comes on, other times, the well-practiced melody of a piano symphony floats out.

He hadn’t had a chance to play the piano like this since he graduated; a part of that is probably due to his avoidance of all things related to Xiao Zhan. But, in the end, one can’t hide the things they love forever.

“Here’s the keys. Remember to lock the door before you go.” Boss, who had perceived that neither of them have any intention of leaving just yet, deposits the keys in Xiao Zhan’s hand before he goes. “I don’t know what’s up with the two of you, but some things should be talked about.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Zhan says. He can feel that, intentionally or not, Boss truly wants to help – and no matter whose side he’s standing on, Xiao Zhan feels eternally grateful.

Boss doesn’t say anything else; with a wave of his hand, he turns and departs. He even considerately shuts the door behind him.

Hearing Xiao Zhan’s approaching footsteps, Wang Yibo’s hands pause.

Walking over, Xiao Zhan places the crumpled pieces of sheet music on the stand. Then, like how it was four years ago, he sits down on the bench next to him.

Wang Yibo doesn’t look at him. He looks down and gives a soft laugh, as if in self-ridicule. “You’ve seen it already…”

“Wang Yibo, I’m sorry… I’m such a stupid person. Now, and four years ago. This song, the words you said to me, and so many other things besides… I’m always the last person to understand.”

“It’s alright… I was the one with the wishful thinking.” Wang Yibo’s voice is steady, as if he is unbothered by all this. But his hands, resting on his knees, had moved to grip themselves in a tight hold; wrapped tightly over the joints, the curled fingers reveal his turmoil. 

“No, you’re wrong… Those words that you said, four years ago, you were right, I’m always hoping for what’s already lost… …but, in the end, the person that I was always hoping for, was you…”

Xiao Zhan touches the piano, feeling the smoothness of the row of black and white keys. He continues,

“That decision to go on overseas exchange, it was made long before I became your form teacher. In the beginning, it was indeed because of that girl. She went to England for her postgrad, and then she dumped me not long after that.”

“Growing up, I was always that good kid, the one that all the mums talk about… I got the things I wanted, I’ve never hit any roadblocks in my twenty odd years of life. So when it happened, back then, I just felt indignant. Perhaps I wanted to prove that I was just as good, when I decided to go on exchange. As for the rumours between us… my faculty’s always been full of it, so it wasn’t just you who believed it. Even I doubted myself sometimes – did I really miss her? But that day, when I saw her again, it was clear – we’re just ex-classmates now; she already had a new life. And I…”

“And I had already met you. I had a little class monitor, who followed me around every day. All the days I spent with you are warm and happy… And those memories with you were what got me through the darkest and the most terrible days in England. I really like you, and I longed for you; it’s always been that way, since four years ago. But I lost you that day, and I hurt you, too. By the time I realized it, we were already eight thousand kilometres apart…” 

Staring at the piano, at Xiao Zhan’s slim fingers caressing the keys, Wang Yibo’s eyes start to sting.

He didn’t resent Xiao Zhan for his rejection. He never did. It came when Xiao Zhan returned to his life afterwards – he thought that Xiao Zhan turning to him only because he had failed to pursue his ex. Every time they’d fought, the person that Wang Yibo truly resented was himself; he was afraid that Xiao Zhan would one day turn around and leave him again, but he’d still chosen, confusingly, mystifyingly, to live with him. He couldn’t leave Xiao Zhan, but he’d also lost all that reckless courage from his youth.

“I’m sorry… That distance took me three years to bridge, to return to your side. But I should’ve... I should’ve been braver. I should’ve returned your affection earlier.”

Wang Yibo finally raises his head, and looks at the person beside him, “Xiao Zhan, I’m really tired…”

His voice is a little hoarse; his eyes are rimmed with red.

“Mm, I know.” Xiao Zhan raises a gentle hand, gently covers his eyes. He can’t bear to face those eyes, so filled with hurt. “This time, let me be the one liking you, for a change…”

He moves closer, gives him a gentle kiss on the lips. “Wang Yibo, I really like you.”

_I’ve always felt that I owed you too much, so let’s start with returning that kiss from four years ago._

[Helen Jane Long《The Aviators》（Spotify Link）](https://open.spotify.com/track/5ELlLbq2yc6eHbATjSK7bJ?context=spotify%3Atrack%3A5ELlLbq2yc6eHbATjSK7bJ&si=OW8ahVhfSC2tuYorBWtXzA)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Note: In China, the 大学英语四级考试, also known as the College English Test 4 (CET-4) is required by some universities for graduation. Some schools hold their own tests for those students that did not manage to pass the CET-4, but it's not as favourable as passing the national one.)
> 
> Also... finally!!! There's been enough angst already!!!!! ._.


	10. Chapter 10

If that kiss four years ago was a gentle exploration, then this one that Xiao Zhan gives is deep affection, wrapped up in layers of restraint. They’ve been bound by the wrongs between them for so long, but also, connected by the slender, unforgettable threads of longing and love; now that these misunderstandings are finally coming to light, Xiao Zhan feels a bit unsure about Wang Yibo’s feelings.

That pair of eyes, still hiding under the cover of his hand, suddenly gives a few forceful blinks. Xiao Zhan retracts it on reflex, startled by the unexpected sweep of eyelashes over his palm.

Wang Yibo’s eyes are red. With its sudden exposure, it’s as though his heart had been revealed, bared for him to see.

Stubbornly, he yanks his head to the side, rubbing fiercely at the tear tracks with the back of his hand – so fiercely, in fact, that his cheeks turn red from the force.

“You…” Xiao Zhan can’t help but smile at his behaviour, “Be gentle, it’s all red now…”

The slight curve of his lip seems to infuriate the skittish, stubborn kid in front of him – Wang Yibo grabs Xiao Zhan’s arm, which had been on its way towards him, then pulls himself upright, sending one leg over the bench as he raises himself up, towering over Xiao Zhan.

“I made you _laugh…_ ” his voice is not happy, his stance is vicious. Like an infuriated lion, he pounces on the prey before him.

Wang Yibo’s bent right knee presses on the piano bench; his right hand grabs the back of Xiao Zhan’s neck, pulling him straight into his arms. Unexpected though his actions may be, Xiao Zhan does not resist – instead, he loops his arms around Yibo’s waist, pressing himself even closer.

A tongue slips out; Wang Yibo licks his canines, like a lion showing its fangs.

“You’re not allowed to laugh…”

He bends down, forcing his hurt, annoyance, and indignance onto Xiao Zhan’s lips; unreasonable, and indeed, without much direction or plan, biting and chewing them as he kissed.

Knowing his pain, Xiao Zhan doesn’t protest. But he was unable to prevent a soft hiss of pain from escaping.

He can feel Wang Yibo rein himself in a bit, after that – but that pair of canines remain at his lower lip, nibbling away.

Having landed in front of him, Xiao Zhan realizes – this lion is but an extended-tail, arched-back, aggressive-acting cat – and stroking with the grain of its fur is the best way to get into its good graces. One of Xiao Zhan’s hands move to his shoulder; the other climbs its way up to the back of his head. He pushes his fingers into the soft blue hair, running his nails over the scalp… then presses them into that small depression at the base of the skull, giving it a few gentle strokes… and finally, that pair of canines nibbling at his lip retract their pressure, leaving no strength in their bite.

“Wang Yibo…” they part for a short while, Xiao Zhan’s voice mingling among their shared breaths, “You… you’re too tall...”

They are of similar height, and now that he’s sitting down, Wang Yibo, propped up with one knee on the bench, is much taller than him. Even though he’s bending downwards, Xiao Zhan still has to stretch himself to his utmost to reach him. It’s not very comfortable.

Wang Yibo ignores him, opting to bend his head down to try and continue – but Xiao Zhan ducks. Grabbing the back of Wang Yibo’s other knee with his right hand, he pulls him fully onto the piano bench. Then, with that hand on his shoulder, he tugs forcefully, dragging Wang Yibo into his lap.

What was originally a lion chewing on its prey has become, thoroughly, a cat lying on his knee. They stare at one another, their noses touching, their foreheads close.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Xiao Zhan murmurs an invitation to the little beast in his lap.

No answer… But Wang Yibo gives to him the softest parts of himself. Their tongues meet, lazily curling around each other; those canines are nowhere to be seen.

Wang Yibo returns to his usual self on the drive back home. He reclines lazily in the passenger seat, not speaking; his head angles itself towards the window, as if pondering something.

Xiao Zhan has the impression that he’s being shy, coquettish. Stretching his arm over, he gives that earlobe with the earring a gentle tug. “What is it?”

Wang Yibo, letting him play with his ear, doesn’t say anything. After a beat of silence, he pulls out something from his jacket and slips it into the glove compartment.

“What were you getting?” Xiao Zhan suddenly remembers that Wang Yibo gone to Boss’s office by himself before they left the club.

“Happy birthday…”

Wang Yibo’s muffled, unexpected sentence makes Xiao Zhan laugh in surprise.

“That was more than a month ago, you still remember?”

“…Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“I recorded a CD.”

“Ah, I like it.”

“…You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“I have. I was listening to it the whole afternoon.”

Xiao Zhan knows him too well. Those stacks of piano scores he found couldn’t have been sitting in his bedside cabinet for no reason; what else could it be? He takes the opportunity of a red light to have a look at it.

It’s a simple, ordinary disc, sitting inside a transparent CD case. There’s a small piece of card stuffed inside, with three words written on it,

“For Xiao Zhan.”

“Thank you.”

He gives Wang Yibo’s earlobe a gentle squeeze, earning a cool “hmph” in response.

╮（﹀＿﹀）╭

… A few months ago, this year’s birthdays had been a much different, much less pleasant memory for them both.

Wang Yibo’s birthday came first, during the summer. Like the sweltering weather, his temper was extremely irritable and volatile, ready to ignite at the slightest provocation. His work was also busier in the summer; the amount of nightclub patrons are the highest at this time of the year. Occasionally, they managed to close only in the early hours of the morning - which tends to happen after a night of unusually high partying – and so, by the time he reached home (courtesy of Boss’s car), the morning peak hour might already be over. Several nights of this plus his smoking habit resulted in a persistent cough that, despite after several days, still wouldn’t improve. But Wang Yibo hadn’t cared much about it, and refused to take any medication.

Xiao Zhan, who knew that he doesn’t like taking medicine, had rushed to make soothing Rock sugar with Snow pear water and left it in the fridge for him before he flew off for work. Every day, he’d advised Wang Yibo to heat some up, to drink some, it’s good for the throat. But when he returned after four days of work, the container was still there, still full, in the exact same position he’d left it in. Wang Yibo hadn’t even opened the fridge. When he returned home that day afterwards, still coughing non-stop, Xiao Zhan lost his temper.

But Wang Yibo was never one to fear his temper – he retaliated, flaring even more than Xiao Zhan did. _Mind your own business, who do you think you are_ … Words, full of bitterness and spite, were thrown at him as Wang Yibo got into the groove – but his throat couldn’t keep up with its owner’s tirade, forcing him to pause every few sentences to cough. Xiao Zhan, who couldn’t be bothered to listen to him, and who also knew that Wang Yibo doesn’t like to drink water, threw out every single bottle of juice and soda at home before setting cough-suppressing syrup, herbal throat medicine and the Snow pear water on the dining table. He told Wang Yibo – if you don’t drink these, you can’t leave the apartment.

Naturally, Wang Yibo did not buy it. Defying Xiao Zhan outright, he refused to drink water or touch the medicine. Instead, he’d stayed home and watched the television, turned up to the highest volume. Xiao Zhan had lost it then – using his height and strength to his advantage, he’d grabbed a little cup of cough syrup and, holding his chin, forced it down Wang Yibo’s throat.

But… he admits, he may have gone a bit overboard that day. Wang Yibo had been so, so angry, slamming the door behind him as he left. Calls to his phone were immediately cut off. By the time he returned, it was already the day of his birthday.

That day, it had been Boss who sent him home. He’d received the medicine from Xiao Zhan, and supervised Wang Yibo into taking it. He didn’t nag at Wang Yibo to go home, either – he’d brought him to his own place, put him up for a while… and even counselled him, saying that there should be a limit to his antics and stubbornness.

He’d driven him home after that. But he probably didn’t expect this person, whom he’d just personally sent home, to call for him to pick him up so soon.

Xiao Zhan had intended to back down that day; plus, it was also his birthday. His present, of course, had been arranged long ago, he’d prepared Wang Yibo’s favourite dishes, and he’d even bought a small cake for him, with red wine and juice to match.

When he stepped in, Xiao Zhan had come forward first, greeting him with a smile, “Happy birthday!” It had been a small surprise, after all.

Wang Yibo, on his part, was acquiescent, wordlessly sitting down at the dining table. But what should’ve been a celebratory air did not materialize – he’d only eaten a few bites, for formality’s sake, before turning around to leave.

“No appetite?”

“Not hungry…”

“Here, blow out the candles and have some cake, then.”

“I’m not that fussed… you can have it.”

“Then just blow out the candles…”

At that point, Wang Yibo laughed.

“Xiao Zhan, why are you bothering with this? What’s the point? Celebrating my birthday? Look at how I am, you’re still here trying to force it?”

His rejection was very blunt… Xiao Zhan knows, if it had been anybody else, they would’ve left a long time ago. It was clearly justified.

“Alright, you want to celebrate my birthday? I don’t eat cake on my birthdays, I just drink alcohol.” Wang Yibo picked up the bottle of red wine, pouring a full glass of it before pushing it over.

Xiao Zhan took it.

He isn’t a big drinker. In fact, he drinks very rarely, because with a low alcohol tolerance like his, even a can of beer was enough to get to his head. But Wang Yibo was different. Working in a nightclub for as long as he had, even a low alcohol tolerance would’ve been groomed into a decent one.

He didn’t just get Xiao Zhan to chug more than half a bottle of red wine. No, he’d even mixed a vodka cocktail with the juice and fed Xiao Zhan all of it, too. As plastered as he became, Xiao Zhan was worse – completely smashed, he’d thrown up twice in the toilet bowl that night before passing out on the floor. The presents, the birthday… all of it entirely forgotten.

Wang Yibo ignored him. He’d called Boss to pick him up then, and went off to the nightclub, reeking of alcohol, only coming home late after midnight.

Even though he’d indeed drank quite a lot that day, Wang Yibo had been clear about what he was doing. He wanted Xiao Zhan to suffer this loss, he wanted him to hate him, he wanted him to turn his back on him, and stay far far away. Then, he’d be able to tell himself, with all the righteousness he could muster, “You see, that’s how Xiao Zhan is like. He was only using you as a rebound… in the end, he’d still leave you. It’s impossible between the two of you.”

That night, when Wang Yibo returned home, the only difference he saw was that Xiao Zhan had moved from the floor to the bed. But when he woke up the next day, all the happenings of yesterday had been wiped clean; the only thing left on the table was the breakfast that Xiao Zhan had made for him.

They returned to their usual, after that. As though nothing had happened. The only change occurred after the day of their fight – none of the smashed glasses were ever replaced.

In the end, when it came to Xiao Zhan, Wang Yibo didn’t even have the energy left to struggle.

As for the CD, Wang Yibo had it recorded at the end of September. It was meant to be a birthday present, and also a farewell gift. But he didn’t end up giving it that day.

“Why today?” Xiao Zhan is happy, definitely, but he can’t help the flicker of doubt inside him. He knows how evasive and skittish Wang Yibo can be; for him to keep something for over a month before giving it away is extremely unusual of him.

“I just happened to think of it…” Wang Yibo thinks of the nuances he’d hidden inside the CD and suddenly feels a bit pleased with himself.

Between the two of them, Xiao Zhan, talented as he is, has the failing of being a little bit slow on the uptake. And, he is not familiar with the study of music. The intentions that he’d imparted into that CD will likely never be discovered by Xiao Zhan, as long as no one says anything about it.

“… What nonsense.” Xiao Zhan smiles, chiding him lightly. But he also knows why. Wang Yibo had been avoiding him the past few months. They hadn’t even managed to argue with one another, let alone do anything else.

“I’m always like this, I like talking nonsense…” Wang Yibo drags himself up, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Then he stretches his arm over.

Two fingers touch his chin. He can feel the joints of curved fingers brush lightly over his Adam’s apple.

Xiao Zhan swallows reflexively before giving him a quick smack. “Don’t play, I’m driving…”

“Xiao Zhan…” Wang Yibo huffs quietly in laughter, “You’re too slow…”

The evening rush hour in Beijing is a never-ending sea of car tail lights. Blindingly red, shockingly many – one could make a chain out of them.

“I can’t help it, it’s a traffic jam. I didn’t want this either.”

“Yeah, from London to Beijing, it took you three years. The road must have been _really_ jammed…” Wang Yibo, leaning over from his seat with deliberate intent, has a wicked smile on his face.

The next second, Xiao Zhan pulled the handbrake and turned off the engine, and dragged him into his lap by the collar.

Wang Yibo leans pliantly into him, laughing,

“Xiao Zhan…” As if they were talking into one another’s lips, their breaths intermingling, unable to tell where one starts and the other ends, “…Seems like… you’re crazier than I am…”

But the person in front of him is unusually serious, “I won’t… I’ll never… Wang Yibo, next time… even if it’s jammed, I’ll bring you along… I’ll bring you with me…”

They stay there, among the cars. Unconcerned with the sea of blinking red lights around them, the car horns, the complaints of the drivers, going off one after the other.

“…Mm.” Wang Yibo extends his tongue, breaking the thread of saliva connecting them. He licks his lips, which were starting to turn a bit numb. “Okay… Remember, you said it yourself.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sometimes, those saccharine promises, made in the heat of the moment, are also made to be broken.

A few days after their reconciliation (days spent clinging to one another entirely), Xiao Zhan has to fly off for work again.

The professors and students of his old faculty seemed to have regained their memory of him, ever since his appearance on campus. Xiao Zhan, the extraordinary, exemplary graduate from their school, who finally returned from his studies overseas, has been besieged by requests for help. The most recent one came in the form of Professor Liu, who asked for help in interpreting for a small international forum in Shanghai.

Xiao Zhan, who is busy with his work, did not actually intend to leave Beijing at all – but he had been unable to withstand one hour of Professor Liu’s earnest pleas. In the end, he had agreed.

What followed was a series of preparatory work, packing, and rearranging his commitments. Technically speaking, leaving home for three days is not a big deal at all, but Xiao Zhan’s mind is full of the words that he had said, and those promises that he made, in that traffic jam at the heart of the city. And thus, he kept procrastinating about telling Wang Yibo, because he had no idea how to break the news. He finally decides to do it after the organizer sent him his hotel details and plane tickets.

Winter in the northern parts of China is very cold; the wind it brings cuts like knives across your face. Sometimes, it even snows. But when November came around, the warmth made their home feel even hotter than summer did.

Wang Yibo lounges around the apartment after his shower, dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of shorts. He had not bothered with blow-drying his hair; he’d simply given it a few cursory wipes with the towel, leaving the rest to drip all over the floor.

Xiao Zhan, who had been busy inside with departure arrangements, sees him the moment he steps outside his room. Wang Yibo is lying across the sofa, playing a game on his phone while his pale, slender legs rested against the back of the furniture. He had propped his neck off the side of the sofa seat, his head suspended in mid-air, so that he won’t get the sofa fabric wet.

“Wang Yibo…” Xiao Zhan sits down next to him. He runs his hand through the damp locks on Wang Yibo’s head.

“Mm…” Wang Yibo gives a non-committal grunt, his focus still clearly on the phone.

He is on multiplayer with Boss, and even after three matches, they hadn’t been able to get into the top five – this time, they’d (with much difficulty) managed to make it into the finals, so Wang Yibo _has_ to win this round in order to redeem his honour.

“I have something to talk to you about…”

Xiao Zhan notices Wang Yibo’s breezy summer outfit. He himself is still wearing the same work shirt from this afternoon, the one that he’d picked Wang Yibo up in. He’d been so busy tonight, he hadn’t changed. So he undoes the buttons at his cuffs, rolls up his sleeves – now that he’s finally able to take a break, he realizes how warm it is.

“Go on…”

Wang Yibo says distractedly, his eyes not leaving the screen. He’s busy driving a vehicle in-game – being able to spare one of his ears to listen to Xiao Zhan is already considered rather respectful, really.

“I need to fly to Shanghai for work… I’m leaving the day after tomorrow, for three days.”

Xiao Zhan is reluctant about it. When they had been at loggerheads with one another, work trips were a well-needed break – but now that they’ve reconciled, he knows that being apart will cool the flames of passion between them. Passion that had taken so much effort to stoke.

Wang Yibo doesn’t reply him, however. The rattling sound of gunshots continue to issue from the phone. Clearly, he is too busy to answer.

The head hanging off the edge of the seat seems to decide that his hair is acceptably dry by now – it shifts towards the sofa as its owner adjusts himself into a more comfortable position. The loose, baggy shorts he’s wearing slip down as he moves, bunching around his hips, revealing the full expanse of his thighs. Xiao Zhan, sitting next to him, can see the faint curve of the flesh beneath, along with a couple of shallow stretch marks – smooth, supple skin extending all the way into the hidden shadows of the fabric.

Xiao Zhan, trying to talk to such an unresponsive conversation partner, had already been suppressing a growing sense of agitation. The view in front of him is the final straw – a gentle wind, fanning the flames of his provocation, transforming it into a burning heat. Without thinking, he extends his hand into the shorts.

Wang Yibo, who was thoroughly busy with the final match of his game, suddenly feels a hand groping a rather sensitive part of himself. The phone drops on his face, then falls to the floor.

“…Mm… …Xiao…” He moans slightly, voice breaking in a tremble. He doesn’t even manage to finish the word “Zhan.” “You… What’re you…”

This is too sudden for him – Wang Yibo, forgetting everything about the game on his phone, curls in slightly on himself, trying to escape the hand rubbing insistently between his legs.

“Helping you, of course…” Xiao Zhan’s other hand lands on Wang Yibo’s wrists, pressing the slender flesh into the coffee table, ensuring that he has nowhere to escape. He bends down, mouthing at his earlobes,

“Helping you… quit your gaming addiction…”

Xiao Zhan had learnt Wang Yibo’s interests very quickly, back then. Skateboarding, motorcycles, and gaming. Compared to the rest of the boys his age, Wang Yibo was remarkably non-picky about things – the food he eats, the clothes he wears, or the place he lives in were all unimportant, because the main bulk of his money is spent on his hobbies. It was the same back then, it remains the same now. Squeezing on the subway or eating takeaway doesn’t bother him, but when it comes to a must-have skateboard accessory or motorcycle helmet, no price is too high. Even the decked-out desktop computer in his room, connected to a set of fancy peripherals, is mainly used for gaming purposes.

Wang Yibo’s motorcycle had been stored at Boss’s carpark since they started living together. That, combined with the impracticality of skateboarding outdoors in these frigid winter months, meant that most of Wang Yibo’s time had been spent at home, gaming. Mobile games, computer games, console games… he played the lot. Occasionally, he turns on the mic, transforming the apartment into a noisy gaming party. (As though Xiao Zhan doesn’t live there, too.)

If this had happened back then, Xiao Zhan would’ve tolerated it. But things aren’t the same anymore. Treating your boyfriend like the air around you isn’t very nice.

“What did I say just now?” Xiao Zhan’s hand continues to move, pressing down rhythmically; he watches as Wang Yibo squirms on the sofa, trembling.

The sofa is not large; with his continuous movement, Wang Yibo’s head has shifted itself off the seat. His face, hanging off the side, is flushed red. When Xiao Zhan’s lips come round again, his mind, already melted into mush, is unable to care about anything else. He moans unconsciously.

“… Say… say what…”

“Then… you better think hard,” Xiao Zhan replies, speeding up the rhythm of his hand.

“… Uh…” Wang Yibo, distracted and agitated, gives a whine before he turns around, eyes rimmed with red. Growling in agitation, he snaps at Xiao Zhan, says a monosyllabic swear word.

Xiao Zhan is unfazed. His hand, however, changes position.

“Okay, Wang Yibo… … You said it yourself…”

The fabric on the sofa is linen – the rough texture of the material, combined with the constant wear and tear of use has resulted in a slew of stiff upright fibres. With friction, it leaves lines and lines of red marks, over the shoulders, behind the knees… occasionally, the pale grey of the fabric turns into a deeper colour if it gets wet, for example, with tears, with sweat, or with…

Wang Yibo, in his spent, relaxed state, finally remembers – this person is flying off for work, he’s leaving for Shanghai, for three days…

This is not the first time Xiao Zhan punishes him for gaming. The previous time (which happened a few years ago) had not been so X-rated, however.

In university, the undergraduate coursework generally exceeds that of the postgraduates. For the undergrads in the faculty of music, a lot of it consisted of compulsory general education modules – the extremely dry, boring sort, which required hours and hours of rote memorization. Not surprisingly, that particular two hour-long fourth period on Fridays became the preferred time for playing truant.

Xiao Zhan had not acted too harshly on that behaviour. After all, he had been through freshman year himself; he can understand their desire to start the weekend a bit earlier.

But the behaviour did not abate even after the Lunar New Year holidays. Even though the semester was drawing to a close, one-third of the students were still skipping that module on Fridays, leaving the classroom more than half-empty. So the teacher of that module, stony-faced, had complained to the freshmen administrator, and the freshmen administrator had in turn dragged all the form teachers down for a good scolding. Xiao Zhan, who had been extremely busy with his own work at the time (and one of them was an assignment from his academic mentor), had had to put it all aside to endure a three hour-long mass-reprimanding session at the undergraduate office.

He hadn’t cared too much about it, originally. This behaviour happened in the other classes and other years too. But since it’s landed on his own head this time, he knows that he will have to say a few words of admonishment at the next class meeting.

When he received the attendance records from the teacher-in-charge, however, one name stood out – “Wang Yibo”, followed by a series of red crosses, the bright red of the ink piercing in his eyes.

It was as though that name had shot in and replaced all his thoughts of “never mind”, “it’s nothing”, “they’re just kids” with “disobedient”, “not caring about his studies”, “irresponsible class monitor”. He hadn’t even felt that angry during the scolding session. After he saw that name list, Xiao Zhan became too upset to even eat dinner.

He sent a reproachful reminder to the class group chat then, conveying the displeasure of the teacher and freshmen administrator to the absentees. Not long after, a series of messages started arriving, saying things like “we were wrong”, “Teacher Xiao, we’re sorry”, “we’ll never do it again”…

As form teacher, doing this was technically already sufficient for his role. But in that barrage of replies, none of them were from the little class monitor that had made him so angry.

For someone used to his genial, smiling face, the dark shadow over his features was frightening. His dorm mate, eating next to him, was spooked.

“What’s wrong? Did you get scolded by your mentor? Or is that class of freshman kids causing you problems?” Noticing that Xiao Zhan hadn’t even started on the plates of food, he sneaked his chopsticks over, taking a few pieces. “If you have no appetite, let me help you, hah, let’s not waste food…”

“… You can have it.” Xiao Zhan slammed his chopsticks on the table.

“Tell me about it. Seeing you get _this_ angry, man, the person who pissed you off must be quite something…”

Xiao Zhan opened his mouth, wanting to speak – but then he realized that he didn’t know how to start… because, truly, the things that can make Xiao Zhan angry are a precious few. Thinking about it, he wasn’t bothered by being scolded, nor did he care that much about the students skipping class, so why is he so irritated right now?

With nowhere for his temper to flare and no way of explaining why, Xiao Zhan turned and left, leaving his dorm mate alone at the canteen.

“Hey, where’re you going? It’s Friday night…” His dorm mate yelled at his retreating back.

“… Got something on. I need to make a call.”

…

That night, he’d called that number all the way from “this number is not within the service area” to “this device is off”. Unconsciously, that ball of anger within him had taken on a hint of disappointment, as well as a large dose of worry.

He was standing at the security post of the undergrad dormitories, chatting listlessly to the admin auntie when he finally saw him – Wang Yibo, along with five others, laughing and joking as they sprinted through the doors, making their way in at the nick of time, right before curfew started.

He didn’t see Xiao Zhan at first, too busy being gleeful about not getting stuck outside – but a few seconds later, his collar was grabbed, and he was pulled towards a corner next to the security post.

“Xiao Zhan! Why’re you here?” His eyes lit up as they recognized the person before him. Xiao Zhan didn’t often come to find him – and at the lobby of his dormitory, no less. In his happiness, he leaned forward, unconsciously pressing close to him.

“Stand properly…” Xiao Zhan’s voice was terrifyingly icy.

Seeing him so angry for the first time, Wang Yibo quickly retracted his relaxed, delinquent energy.

“Where did you go?”

“…”

“Speak. Where did you go?”

“…Out.”

“Are you not understanding my words? I asked you, where did you go?”

“G-gaming…”

“Ah, I see. Wang Yibo… you’re accomplished, aren’t you? You got into your form teacher’s good books, so now you’re daring enough to stay out past curfew and skip classes to game at cybercafés? Not a bad deal for being a class monitor, no?”

“I… I’m back now…” His reply was guilty – Wang Yibo knew that he had indeed just managed to make it back on time today. Last week, he had played through the night with his friends, and only returned to campus on Saturday afternoon.

“Mm… and in the nick of time, too. The general education teacher spoke to us today; I didn’t even know – The number of times you attended this semester’s gen ed class can be counted on one hand, am I right?”

“Xiao Zhan… I’m sorry…”

“Admitting your mistake only after I’ve heard about it? Were you intending to continue dragging your grade down if I didn’t?”

“… No, Xiao Zhan…”

“Stop calling my name... _Now_ you know to call me? Why didn’t you pick up your phone or answer your messages? You scared that I’ll go to the café, haul you back to campus?”

“… No… My phone, it, ran out battery… It wasn’t on purpose. It’s my fault, I’m sorry… I promise, I’ll attend every class from now on, and I won’t let my grades fall… Don’t be angry…”

Wang Yibo, the model of penitence, was admitting his mistakes with the most remorseful expression. He even extended his hand, tugging at Xiao Zhan’s sleeve.

“I was wrong… Don’t be mad at me, please… Xiao Zhan…”

Actually, when he opened his mouth, Xiao Zhan’s anger had already dissipated by more than half. Observing his contrite behaviour now, Xiao Zhan’s temper melted away entirely. But a punishment was still necessary.

“Let me tell you, Wang Yibo. If I hear that you’re skipping class without reason again – and I don’t care if its gen ed class or your faculty class – your role as class monitor will be taken away… please stand properly and stop fidgeting.”

“… Yes, I understand.”

“I’m not done yet. I want a reflection on your mistakes, five thousand words, and you better write it properly. If it’s not clearly impactful on you, I’ll make you write it in English. Hand it to me on Monday.”

“Absolutely, I will write it well, you don’t even need to wait till Monday, I can hand it in by tomorrow.”

“… I don’t want to see you on the weekend, you’ll give me a headache…”

…

In Xiao Zhan’s mind, this was sufficient, done and dusted. That last bit was just an offhand comment, Xiao Zhan taking advantage of his remorse to punish him a little bit.

He did not actually expect Wang Yibo to take it to heart.

They had spent almost every weekend together this semester – in the music rooms, in the library, and even on the occasional off-campus trip. So when Xiao Zhan saw no one waiting for him when he stepped out of his apartment block that Saturday, he’d felt strangely off-kilter.

He was on his way to the library after breakfast when he felt someone following him. He’d turned around then, looked for quite a while, and finally noticed a figure hiding behind a nearby tree. He didn’t need to guess who – the half-hidden skateboard revealed the person’s identity almost instantly.

Xiao Zhan, who didn’t want Wang Yibo to develop such lawlessness thanks to him, decided to shake him up a bit – he deliberately ignored him. As a result, Wang Yibo stayed away over the next couple of days, not daring to greet him; even though he silently followed him to the canteen and the library, he kept his distance, sitting at the other tables. What made Xiao Zhan almost cave in, though, were the slips of paper that appeared at his seat every time he left and returned to it – little bits of paper hiding between the pages of his books, each stroke written by hand,

“Xiao Zhan, I’m sorry.”

That was how Wang Yibo carefully, anxiously, endured his way to Monday. The reflection that he wrote ended up having eight thousands words in it – a sincere attempt, one would say, an effort that went beyond what was asked for. And yet, when he arrived outside the office, faced with the door he used to enter without a second thought, he spent a long while dithering outside, afraid to go in.

“Ah, it’s you? Looking for Teacher Xiao?”

His frenetic pacing at the door had coincided with the arrival of another form teacher. Wang Yibo had been here often enough for the other form teachers to recognize him.

“Hello, Teacher… Is Xiao Zhan…?”

“Yes, he’s inside. Why are you not going in?”

“I… I’m here to submit my reflection…”

“Ah, you got scolded? He even made you do a reflection?” The female teacher smiled. “Your class should be more obedient, really. They rounded us form teachers up last week, scolded us the whole afternoon.”

“Then, he… is he still angry?”

“No, go on in…”

After some urging, she opened the door for him and left; she had something else on.

The terrible soundproofing at the office meant that Xiao Zhan heard every single word at the door. After two days of ignoring him, Xiao Zhan didn’t have the heart to continue.

“Wang Yibo, come in.”

He spoke to the doorway. Wang Yibo hastily entered, delivered the sheets of paper wordlessly into Xiao Zhan’s hands.

“Xiao… Xiao…” Now that he’d made him angry, Wang Yibo did not quite dare to call him by his name, but “Teacher Xiao” was even harder to say.

“Don’t say it if you can’t say it, nobody’s forcing you to…” Watching his jittery behaviour, Xiao Zhan felt a flicker of amusement. “One would think you’ve given me a nickname or something.”

Wang Yibo did not speak. His head bowed low, he listened to the sound of Xiao Zhan flipping through the pages.

“Why are you so quiet? You’ve been hiding for two days now, Wang Yibo?”

“I was scared that you’re angry…”

“Do I look angry to you?”

The teachers at the surrounding desks, upon hearing these words, immediately started laughing. Xiao Zhan’s good temper was well-known among their year. This made Wang Yibo even more embarrassed…

After a long while, he forced out a “No…”

“Alright. This is enough. And you’ve already completed your reflection, so let’s put this behind us. But the things you promised me…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Wang Yibo interjected, “Yes, yes, definitely. I promise it will never happen again, and I will study hard for the final exams this semester.”

After the sheets of paper had been stored, Xiao Zhan seemed to remember something. He raised his head, looked at the quiet little class monitor,

“Wang Yibo, next time… remember to charge your phone, and please pick up your calls…”

In that whole year that Xiao Zhan was form teacher, and in that whole class of more than fifty people, he’d only ever punished one person.

In Wang Yibo’s twenty-odd years of life, and with the exception of his family, Wang Yibo had only ever allowed himself to be punished by one person.


	12. Chapter 12

Wang Yibo was still sleeping when Xiao Zhan left that morning. Worried that he’ll be woken up by the sound of a phone alert, Xiao Zhan suppresses his urge to contact him all the way until the plane lands. When he decides, finally, that Wang Yibo should be out of bed by now, he makes a quick phone call, with the same old words – reminding him about the food in the fridge, stop eating so much takeaway, stop drinking so much, come home early and get more rest.

“I know, I’m eating right now…” As the words left his mouth, Wang Yibo realizes that his attitude isn’t very nice; after a moment of hesitation, he squeezes out a “You too…”

The number of phone calls from Xiao Zhan that he actually finished listening to, in these past six months, is meagre. Now, it seems like he’s forgotten how to respond to his care.

_Ah, if only I was young again._

Wang Yibo muses about it as he clears the dining table. Back then, when he used to follow Xiao Zhan everywhere, he seemed to have an endless supply of things to say; his brain had been filled with nonsensical love words (and not a small amount of it, too), which he occasionally used to tease Xiao Zhan with. He’d even been able to write love poems on the back of a piano score.

It seems he has gotten too comfortable with being punk these past two years… Wang Yibo, intending to take a glance at himself in the mirror before leaving, ends up running his hand irritably through the mop of blue hair on his head. Staring at his delinquent, swaggering appearance, he realizes that he doesn’t quite seem to like it. All these months living with Xiao Zhan, he’s never had an issue with it, but recently it seems… it doesn’t seem right somehow…

And it doesn’t seem cute enough…

ヽ( ￣д￣;)ノ

“Oh hey, you came by yourself today? Did you take the bus or squeeze on the subway?”

Ever since Boss delivered this (picked up from the roadside) little brother to Xiao Zhan that afternoon, Wang Yibo has not been seen arriving at work by himself. Except for the occasional ultra-late night (which Xiao Zhan can’t accommodate), he has pretty much been driven around.

“He’s away for work for a few days.”

Wang Yibo slumps down on the sofa, removing his hat. He will have to go and perform in a short while.

“Oooh, let me have a look…” Boss notices it the moment his hat came off – Wang Yibo had changed his hair colour. “Are you celebrating your escape from singlehood with a brand new dye job? Melancholic blue to honey brown. You’re worried that people won’t know you’re in love?”

“… Are you bored out of your mind or something? You’re done arranging the Christmas special cocktails and the new desserts for afternoon tea? Don’t tell me you’re planning to make it yourself…”

Xiao Zhan had been quite busy lately. Wang Yibo, home alone by himself, had run out of people to talk to; now that Boss had delivered himself to him, Wang Yibo can’t resist needling him a bit.

“That’s stuff you don’t need to worry about. Our establishment hasn’t fallen to the extent of having _me_ step into the kitchen.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t fall if you adapt some more. You can open a breakfast stall, turn this place 24-hours, why not open a convenience store at the front while you’re at it…”

“Please have some faith in me,” Boss cuts him off, preventing further provocation. “I was tidying up my office today, and I noticed that something seems to be missing from my drawer.”

Wang Yibo slouches even further down into the sofa, inattentively closing his eyes. “That CD belonged to me.”

“Yes, I know it’s yours. Planning to destroy the evidence, now that you’re no longer fighting? You better not let me see it again – I might just tell Xiao Zhan about what kind of present you were planning to give him, one day.”

“Mm… you think too much. I’ve already given it to him.”

“What… are you okay?? Don’t you remember the songs you put in the CD?” Boss had been the one who helped arrange the recording – the songs he chose, the duration – he is extremely clear about what they meant.

Their opening hour is approaching. Wang Yibo gets up, straightening his clothes as he walks out to the dining area. “I know, don’t worry. He doesn’t know about all these. I felt good that day, so I wanted to give him a present.”

Watching his indifferent, careless attitude, Boss decides to leaves him to it. If Xiao Zhan is discerning enough, the meaning of those last two tracks on that CD is obvious. Boss wonders if this kid is pretending to be smart, or is just really naïve.

Giving him a present? Giving him a knife, more like…

Wang Yibo spends the next few days busy, staying at the club all the way from afternoon till late. Coincidentally, Xiao Zhan’s working hours are the exact opposite of his – meetings the whole morning, sometimes lasting for several hours, then luncheons and drinks afterwards – so by the time he finally gets to breathe, it’s already time for Wang Yibo to start his afternoon shift.

There’s no time for phone or video calls. Luckily, text messages still work, pinging between the two. But the words on the screen lack all the emotions a voice carries; Xiao Zhan, reading the dry, toneless words, feels himself longing for him even more.

He had transferred all the songs on that CD into his phone before he left. Sitting in the hotel room by himself, preparing for tomorrow’s programs, Xiao Zhan lets it play. Letting the notes melt and fill the time, as if doing so will make the clock tick faster. Making the time remaining to their reunion shrink, just a little, second by second.

The melodies that entered Xiao Zhan’s ears spoke of longing. But, the same melodies that entered someone else’s, spoke differently…

The next day, Xiao Zhan takes a rare advantage of a break between meetings to have a cup of coffee. These networking events hold no interest for him, but he happens to hear two of the junior translators gossiping in a corner. Out of coincidence, the person of their interest happened to be himself, so Xiao Zhan stays, listening to their conversation.

“Did you not sleep well these couple of days or something? You almost made a mistake today, lucky Teacher Xiao was there…”

“Yeah… that was really lucky. But I think Senior Xiao must also have a lot of pressure on him… you know, this career is not an easy one.”

“You think Senior Xiao is feeling pressured right now? He’s attended much grander conferences than these. Don’t drag our senior down just ‘cause you’re not at his level yet!”

“I mean, it’s just a feeling… It’s not nice to say such things, and I think people can’t usually tell.” The girl pauses at this point, taking a quick glance around before continuing softly, “My room is next to his. He was playing music the whole night! Instrumental, piano music!”

“ _That’s_ what made you think he’s pressured? You know his personality, it would’ve been weirder to hear hiphop music in the middle of the night, no?”

“… The problem isn’t with the instrumental music, it’s with what the song is, okay? He kept playing those few songs on repeat yesterday, all sad songs, even though I didn’t know every one of them… But! I remember very clearly, two of them were movie soundtracks, and with a name like that…”

“What’s wrong with the song name?”

“It’s hard to say… Anyway, I thought I heard a kind of… reckless compulsion, like someone saying goodbye to the world…”

…

Xiao Zhan stops listening at this point. Besides marveling at the girl’s imagination, he doesn’t think much more of it.

Two and a half busy days finally come to an end. Xiao Zhan, sitting at the airport, learns that his flight has been delayed because of inclement weather. What should have departed in the afternoon has now been pushed back into the night. 

Beijing… it will start snowing soon… based on what he gleaned from the weather reports, the temperature in the north has been dipping steadily; he wonders if that person remembered to put on more layers before he left for work this afternoon. But – Xiao Zhan bends his head, looks at the time – he’s probably too busy to listen to this sort of nagging right now.

He puts on his earphones. Besides the person he’s thinking of, something else comes to mind – the words that his junior translator said yesterday.

He’s not very good with music. Or, to be more specific, his ability to discern the emotions in music is somewhat lacking, which is why all the songs on that CD had sounded like easy-listening piano music to him. Unable to suppress his curiousity, Xiao Zhan texts the girl. With some effort, he finds out the names of those two songs right before his plane departs.

Three hours later, he arrives to a downpour.

In winter, the rains are never quite that heavy – but they’re cold, bringing with them a chill that seeps right into the bones.

Back when he was still in university, Xiao Zhan spent his winter holidays at home, away from Beijing, avoiding the coldest months of the year. Because of that, he treasured the rare encounters he had with sleet or snow. The snowflakes that landed on the windowsill, the rain that soaked the shrubbery, even the dark, overcast skies – Xiao Zhan thought it beautiful.

He spent the days right before his last ever winter break at the university working, finishing up the semester’s form teacher summary. His return home that year had been delayed because of that. Xiao Zhan ended up witnessing a big snowfall in Beijing that year, a continuous two days of snowing skies, covering the entire campus with a thick fluffy layer of white.

Wang Yibo had been reluctant to leave. Even though he’d already finished his semester exams, he remained on campus, refusing to depart until the very last day of the semester, before he finally packed his bags and left the dormitory.

Then he’d stood obediently at the lobby of the postgrad apartment block, and made a phone call.

“Xiao Zhan, I got kicked out by the dormitory auntie…”

He couldn’t bear to go because someone was still on campus, busy with work.

Xiao Zhan had rushed down then, and saw Wang Yibo, sitting on his luggage, playing a game on his phone. It had been such a cold day, but he wasn’t wearing a hat nor a scarf; his hands were red, his ears were red, even the tip of his nose had turned red in the chill.

“Wang Yibo, you… why didn’t you wear something warmer, it’s so cold today.”

He had barely finished speaking when the person waiting for him jumped off the luggage, ran over.

“I’m fine, I’m not cold. Xiao Zhan, I’ve gotta go, they’re closing the undergraduate dormitories today. When are you going home?”

“Day after.”

“Ah… that’s still okay, if you end up not going home, then I’ll have lost out.”

“Lost what?”

“Nothing… So when are you coming back?”

“Before the fifteenth day of the Lunar New Year. I bought a return ticket, it was cheaper. You?”

“I haven’t bought mine yet, but… don’t worry, the first thing you see when you return will definitely be me.”

Xiao Zhan laughed in amusement. “Making claims when you haven’t even gotten your ticket yet… what if you’re wrong?”

“We’ll see about that,” Wang Yibo replied staunchly. He adjusted the bag strap on his shoulder, as though he had no intention of leaving.

“Do you need me to walk you to the gate?” Xiao Zhan, watching his hesitance, was not sure why he seemed reluctant to leave.

“No, I’m not that particular, it’s only a short way away…”

“Okay, not particular at all. I’ll just watch you leave then. You even called me down from my room, are you sure you didn’t want me to walk you?”

Xiao Zhan teased him with a smile. Wang Yibo, like an aggravated cat, turned around in an instant, leaving with a huff, pulling his luggage behind him.

But a few steps later, he stopped. Turning back, he yelled at Xiao Zhan, “Xiao Zhan, remember to miss me.”

It had been such a cold, snowy day, and this person was wearing just a simple later of cool-toned fabric – but Xiao Zhan, looking at him, felt as if he was looking at a cluster of flames. It wasn’t piercingly bright, nor was it raging or restless – but it was enough to warm his whole winter.

…

_Wang Yibo, remember to miss me, too… We’ve already reconciled, didn’t we…_

The apartment had been tidied, the used Tupperware had been cleaned and returned to the kitchen cabinets. Every plant pot had been watered, the rubbish bin had been emptied, even the cigarette butts had been cleared. Even during his non-irritable periods back then, Wang Yibo had never done any of these things before. Because of that, Xiao Zhan remains on edge until he finds all of Wang Yibo’s things spread out in his room. Then he finally breathes a sigh of relief.

Xiao Zhan had arrived home past midnight; he should be tired by now. But the rain outside the windows isn’t stopping, splattering against the glass, amplified by the empty room. Xiao Zhan can’t sleep.

When he moves to check his phone yet again, a sound finally comes from the front door – the clack of a key, inserted into the lock.

Wang Yibo hadn’t even taken off his jacket – indeed, he’d barely stepped into the apartment – when he gets engulfed by someone’s arms. His chin knocks against the other person’s shoulder, but the hug doesn’t abate. It got tighter instead.

“Xiao Zhan? You’re back…” Wang Yibo, after realizing, returns with a gentle hug of his own. “Did something happen?”

“Wang Yibo…”

“Yeah?”

“Did you not believe… not believe that I’ll always be with you?”

“I…” Wang Yibo is startled by the question. Hadn’t things been fine before he left, how did it change during his work trip? How did it even…

Can it be… Did Boss’s words come true, that CD…

“Xiao Zhan, I didn’t… Did you listen to that CD?”

He’s fine with not talking about this, too; the moment he opened his mouth, Xiao Zhan had pressed him against the wall.

“… Mm… You… Listen to me, let me finish, we can kiss after…”

…Seems like it really was because of that. With much difficulty, Wang Yibo manages to pause their activity, then speaks.

“It was recorded before that, I just happened to see it that day and… I couldn’t bear to give it to you before, and now, how could I want to… Mm…”

Xiao Zhan doesn’t let him finish. He understands now… this person took advantage of his lack of musical prowess, deceived him with what was meant to be a breakup gift.

“Wang Yibo, you little bastard…”

Since it’s already started, Xiao Zhan does not intend to let him off easily.

With the heat of two people in the apartment, a layer of fog creeps slowly over the glass, obscuring the passion within.

Outside, the overlapping branches tremble under the pitter-patter of the rain, swaying away. Unable to take the weight, the thin wooden prongs tilt when the wind blows, sending a shower of water droplets down below. A long night of rain that came, finally, with snow; starting out as hints of white on the branches, then, after that, relentless; fluttering pieces of descending frost, landing here, staying there.

“You’re amazing, aren’t you? One 《Goodbye》hadn’t been enough, you had to put a 《The Last Goodbye》too?”

“Xiao Zhan, I said I was wrong, didn’t I… I’m not gonna soothe you anymore… …I’m too tired….”

“Record another one.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Anything you want, I’ll record it.”

“Then, I want…

《I Love You》《A Thousand Years》.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[I Love You]](https://c.y.qq.com/base/fcgi-bin/u?__=KTY0GNR)
> 
> [[A Thousand Years]](https://c.y.qq.com/base/fcgi-bin/u?__=sNy0GN0)
> 
> Anddddd it's done! Thank you all for reading, I hope you liked it! :)  
> Find me on Tumblr @yizhanfanart


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